Spiteful Harriet Wilson
A Short Story
by Mr Pseudonym
Harriet Wilson looked at the damp book in her hands and felt surprised.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her creepy surroundings. She had always loved noisy Shanghai with its attractive, angry arches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel surprised.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Robert Lakeman. Robert was a malicious writer with brown fingernails and skinny fingers.