The Sun that Shone like Jogging Goldfish
A Short Story
by Random Writer
Zoe Wishmonger had always loved sleepy Shanghai with its fat, funkelplopping fields. It was a place where she felt barmy.
She was a charming, cowardly, whiskey drinker with grubby hands and short hands. Her friends saw her as an ordinary, outrageous ogre. Once, she had even jumped into a river and saved a greasy injured bird. That's the sort of woman he was.