Idyllic Chicago

A Short Story
by feni
joan looked at the enchanted blade in her hands and felt ambivalent.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. She
had always loved idyllic Chicago with its wet, weak waters. It was a place that
encouraged her tendency to feel ambivalent.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of cila .
cila was a patient queen with short eyelashes and solid warts.

joan gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a splendid, proud, brandy
drinker with feathery eyelashes and greasy warts. Her friends saw her as a puny, prickly
patient. Once, she had even saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a splendid person who had once saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck
in a drain, was prepared for what cila had in store today.

The sun shone like partying ostriches, making joan irritable.

As joan stepped outside and cila came closer, she could see the great glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want a phone number," cila bellowed, in a down to earth tone. She
slammed her fist against joan's chest, with the force of 8486 donkeys. "I frigging love
you, joan ."

joan looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the enchanted blade. "cila, get
out of my house," she replied.

They looked at each other with delighted feelings, like two defeated, damaged dogs
loving at a very predatory disco, which had trance music playing in the background and
two peculiar uncles smiling to the beat.

joan regarded cila's short eyelashes and solid warts. She held out her hand. "Let's not
fight," she whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered cila.

"Please?" begged joan with puppy dog eyes.

cila looked sneezy, her body blushing like a tasty, thirsty torch.

Then cila came inside for a nice glass of brandy.

THE END
Idyllic Chicago
A Short Story
by feni
joan looked at the enchanted blade in her hands and felt ambivalent.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. She
had always loved idyllic Chicago with its wet, weak waters. It was a place that
encouraged her tendency to feel ambivalent.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of cila .
cila was a patient queen with short eyelashes and solid warts.

joan gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a splendid, proud, brandy
drinker with feathery eyelashes and greasy warts. Her friends saw her as a puny, prickly
patient. Once, she had even saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a splendid person who had once saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck
in a drain, was prepared for what cila had in store today.

The sun shone like partying ostriches, making joan irritable.

As joan stepped outside and cila came closer, she could see the great glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want a phone number," cila bellowed, in a down to earth tone. She
slammed her fist against joan's chest, with the force of 8486 donkeys. "I frigging love
you, joan ."

joan looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the enchanted blade. "cila, get
out of my house," she replied.

They looked at each other with delighted feelings, like two defeated, damaged dogs
loving at a very predatory disco, which had trance music playing in the background and
two peculiar uncles smiling to the beat.

joan regarded cila's short eyelashes and solid warts. She held out her hand. "Let's not
fight," she whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered cila.

"Please?" begged joan with puppy dog eyes.

cila looked sneezy, her body blushing like a tasty, thirsty torch.

Then cila came inside for a nice glass of brandy.

THE END

Idyllic Chicago
A Short Story
by feni
joan looked at the enchanted blade in her hands and felt ambivalent.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. She
had always loved idyllic Chicago with its wet, weak waters. It was a place that
encouraged her tendency to feel ambivalent.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of cila .
cila was a patient queen with short eyelashes and solid warts.

joan gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a splendid, proud, brandy
drinker with feathery eyelashes and greasy warts. Her friends saw her as a puny, prickly
patient. Once, she had even saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a splendid person who had once saved an ordinary old lady that was stuck
in a drain, was prepared for what cila had in store today.

The sun shone like partying ostriches, making joan irritable.

As joan stepped outside and cila came closer, she could see the great glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want a phone number," cila bellowed, in a down to earth tone. She
slammed her fist against joan's chest, with the force of 8486 donkeys. "I frigging love
you, joan ."

joan looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the enchanted blade. "cila, get
out of my house," she replied.

They looked at each other with delighted feelings, like two defeated, damaged dogs
loving at a very predatory disco, which had trance music playing in the background and
two peculiar uncles smiling to the beat.

joan regarded cila's short eyelashes and solid warts. She held out her hand. "Let's not
fight," she whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered cila.

"Please?" begged joan with puppy dog eyes.

cila looked sneezy, her body blushing like a tasty, thirsty torch.

Then cila came inside for a nice glass of brandy.

THE END