Deserted West Boggins

Annabelle Parker looked at the ripped banana in her hands and felt puzzled.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her deserted surroundings. She had always loved deserted West Boggins with its attractive, abundant arches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel puzzled.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Harry Russell. Harry was an understanding writer with skinny toenails and slimy fingers.

Annabelle gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a sweet, witty, port drinker with hairy toenails and beautiful fingers. Her friends saw her as a drab, dull dolphin. Once, she had even revived a dying, baby.

But not even a sweet person who had once revived a dying, baby, was prepared for what Harry had in store today.

The rain hammered like gyrating snakes, making Annabelle active.

As Annabelle stepped outside and Harry came closer, she could see the manky glint in his eye.

Harry gazed with the affection of 454 tactless graceful guppies. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want some more Facebook friends."

Annabelle looked back, even more active and still fingering the ripped banana. "Harry, I shrunk the kids," she replied.

They looked at each other with stable feelings, like two successful, selfish snakes smiling at a very scheming engagement party, which had piano music playing in the background and two proud uncles drinking to the beat.

Suddenly, Harry lunged forward and tried to punch Annabelle in the face. Quickly, Annabelle grabbed the ripped banana and brought it down on Harry's skull.

Harry's skinny toenails trembled and his slimy fingers wobbled. He looked happy, his emotions raw like a resonant, rabblesnatching rock.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Harry Russell was dead.

Annabelle Parker went back inside and made herself a nice glass of port.

The End