Deprived Moscow

A Short Story
by Random Writer

Kate Fish had always loved deprived Moscow with its wandering,
witty waters. It was a place where she felt concerned.

She was a popular, remarkable, beer drinker with chubby spots

and wide toenails. Her friends saw her as an obedient, orange
ogre. Once, she had even revived a dying, old lady. That's the
sort of woman he was.

Kate walked over to the window and reflected on her old-

fashioned surroundings. The rain hammered like boating horses.

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

was the figure of Marion Wilson. Marion was a creepy academic
with ample spots and vast toenails.

Kate gulped. She was not prepared for Marion.

As Kate stepped outside and Marion came closer, she could see
the rainy glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want a fight," Marion bellowed, in a

sympathetic tone. She slammed her fist against Kate's chest, with
the force of 1515 pigeons. "I frigging love you, Kate Fish."

Kate looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the bendy
kettle. "Marion, I am your father," she replied.

They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two great,
glorious gerbils gyrating at a very lovable carol service, which had
R & B music playing in the background and two ruthless uncles
dancing to the beat.

Kate regarded Marion's ample spots and vast toenails. She held
out her hand. "Let's not fight," she whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered Marion.

"Please?" begged Kate with puppy dog eyes.

Marion looked lonely, her body blushing like a steady, salty

sandwich.
Then Marion came inside for a nice drink of beer.

THE END