Two Energetic Uncles Bouncing to the Beat
A Short Story
by Untitled writer
Sharon Ferguson looked at the minuscule blade in her hands and felt unstable.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her cold surroundings. She had always loved crowded Madrid with its alert, angry arches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel unstable.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Marion Trescothik. Marion was a smelly rover with fragile moles and pretty feet.