Crowded Cardiff

A Short Story
by Untitled writer

Christiana Blacksmith was thinking about Casper Rabbit again.

Casper was an arrogant deity with feathery ankles and grubby
moles.

Christiana walked over to the window and reflected on her chilly

surroundings. She had always loved crowded Cardiff with its
thirsty, thoughtless tunnels. It was a place that encouraged her
tendency to feel delighted.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It

was the an arrogant figure of Casper Rabbit.

Christiana gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was

a tactless, modest, whiskey drinker with ample ankles and
grubby moles. Her friends saw her as a hissing, hot hero.
Once, she had even helped a powerless old man recover from
a flying accident.

But not even a tactless person who had once helped a

powerless old man recover from a flying accident, was
prepared for what Casper had in store today.

The wind blew like walking pigeons, making Christiana sneezy.

Christiana grabbed a solid torch that had been strewn nearby;
she massaged it with her fingers.

As Christiana stepped outside and Casper came closer, she

could see the disgusted glint in his eye.

"Look Christiana," growled Casper, with an articulate glare that

reminded Christiana of arrogant tortoises. "It's not that I don't
love you, but I want affection. You owe me 9340 gold pieces."
Christiana looked back, even more sneezy and still fingering
the solid torch. "Casper, I just don't need you in my life any
more," she replied.

They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two filthy,
fat flamingos running at a very sinister engagement party,
which had classical music playing in the background and two
sweet uncles cooking to the beat.

Suddenly, Casper lunged forward and tried to punch Christiana

in the face. Quickly, Christiana grabbed the solid torch and
brought it down on Casper's skull.

Casper's feathery ankles trembled and his grubby moles

wobbled. He looked calm, his wallet raw like a knotty, knowing
knife.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the

ground. Moments later Casper Rabbit was dead.

Christiana Blacksmith went back inside and made herself a

nice glass of whiskey.

THE END

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Auto Praise for Crowded Cardiff
"I feel like I know Christiana Blacksmith. In a way, it feels as
though I've always known her."
- The Daily Tale
"About as enjoyable as being hailed on whilst taking in washing
that has been targeted by seagulls with the squits."
- Enid Kibbler
"Saying the wind blew like walking pigeons is just the kind of
literary device that makes this brilliant."
- Hit the Spoof
"I could do better."
- Zob Gloop