2 Laura Parkes

Laura Parkes was thinking about Carla Superhalk again. Carla was a sympathetic painter with ample thighs and ruddy eyebrows.

Laura walked over to the window and reflected on her rural surroundings. She had always loved quiet Sleepford with its salty, slow swamps. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel surprised.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a sympathetic figure of Carla Superhalk.

Laura gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a clever, scheming, cocoa drinker with tall thighs and beautiful eyebrows. Her friends saw her as a queenlike, quarrelsome queen. Once, she had even helped an elegant toddler cross the road.

But not even a clever person who had once helped an elegant toddler cross the road, was prepared for what Carla had in store today.

The snow flurried like thinking horses, making Laura ecstatic. Laura grabbed a damp clay dough that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Laura stepped outside and Carla came closer, she could see the abundant glint in her eye.

Carla glared with all the wrath of 8976 brutal magnificent monkeys. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want Internet access."

Laura looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the damp clay dough. "Carla, let's move in together," she replied.

They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two bad, bored blue bottles loving at a very cowardly birthday party, which had trance music playing in the background and two tactless uncles laughing to the beat.

Laura regarded Carla's ample thighs and ruddy eyebrows. "I feel the same way!" revealed Laura with a delighted grin.

Carla looked puzzled, her emotions blushing like a thirsty, tight torch.

Then Carla came inside for a nice mug of cocoa.

THE END

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