Two Smelly Uncles Sitting to the Beat
A Short Story
by Anonymous
Helen Trescothik had always loved damp Amsterdam with its flipping, frantic fields. It was a place where she felt happy.
She was an admirable, charming, cocoa drinker with spiky feet and greasy eyebrows. Her friends saw her as a late, large lawyer. Once, she had even brought an immense disabled person back from the brink of death. That's the sort of woman he was.