A Sunny

It was a sunny. A short bald strolled along the busy, whistling a popular and peering into the well-stocked. He had an almost irresistible to buy some delicious and had to impose his iron to quell it. His charming had told him to do something about his podgy: up to now they had had a blissful, but she didn’t want to marry a rotund. She wasn’t so keen on wedding a hairless either, come to that. She could almost see herself in his shiny when he bent down to pick up his false, which were always falling out, for some unaccountable. As if that wasn’t annoying enough, he frequently bruised her delicate with his rough. And he had a rather rasping, not to speak of a horselike when he ate. But she would forgive all of this if only he didn’t look like a stuffed. Had he been privy to her inmost, he might have lost faith in her undying, but being a straightforward uncomplicated he never had the slightest of her critical, apart from her frank about his wobbling and double. And now here he was on the way to a modern well- equipped, which would get rid of the superfluous in no time and turn his tubby into a lean. Before he got there, however, he choked on his chewing and collapsed onto the hard unforgiving. A gaping gathered and a qualified tried to resuscitate him, but it was too late.

After a decent, his former married a muscular and lived happily ever after.


This short story was written by Peter Bendall  A Sunny is one of over a hundred very short stories published in “THE EDIBLE ANARCHIST – and other sentimental tales” – visit the webpage to buy a copy.

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