Deserted Woods
A Short Story
Wolfie had always loved the deserted woods with its regurgitated, roasted rivers. It was a place where she felt shocked.
She was a gentle, sympathetic, scotch drinker with short lips and scrawny ears. Her friends saw her as a wandering, witty wolf. Once, she had even revived a dying, baby flamingo. That’s the sort of woman she was.
Wolfie walked over to the window and reflected on her picturesque surroundings. WOW! she thought.
The rain hammered down like loving ostriches.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of G G. G was a peculiar queen with charming knees and fluffy ankles.
Wolfie gulped. She was not prepared for G.
As Wolfie stepped outside and G came closer, she could see the steep glint in her eye.
Wolfie was cooking up a storm. Blue Bottles. Extra long tentacles.
G gazed with affection at 8152 boiling blue bottles. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want love.”
Wolfie looked back, even more ecstatic with the flick of her wrist and still winding around the warped pole. “G, you are my core. My love. My Queen,” she replied throwing back her hands. My Queen, why dont you Join me on this warped unsafe pole. Lets dance. My love.
They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two purring, pigeons sitting in a very admirable togetherness, with piano music playing in the background their toes twisted, their hands trying to balance the akwardness of the warped pole with a clever munk chanting to the beat. Rocking. Grinning>
Wolfie regarded G’s charming lips and fluffy ankles. “I feel the same way!” revealed Wolfie with a delighted grin and a tilted head.
G looked delighted, she performed a hand stand followed by a kick in the air as she jump higher than ever before. Her emotions blushing like a peeled banana.
Then G came inside for a nice drink of scotch.
The roasted rivers continued to flow with the smell of Us.
Forever.
THE END
