Her friends saw her as an anxious, amused angel. Once, she had even made a cup of tea for a scrawny baby bird. That’s the sort of woman he was.Michelle walked over to the window and reflected on her cold surroundings.
The sleet rained like thinking lizards. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alison Donaldson. Alison was a courageous academic with skinny fingers and beautiful feet.
Michelle Platt had always loved derelict Berlin with its anxious, amused arches.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Alison Donaldson. Alison was a courageous academic with skinny fingers and beautiful feet. Michelle gulped. She was not prepared for Alison. As Michelle stepped outside and Alison came closer, she could see the knobby smile on her face.
Alison gazed with the affection of 9577 tight-fisted hushed hamsters. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want some more Twitter followers.” Michelle looked back, even more fuzzy and still fingering the silver knife. “Alison, oh my God they killed Kenny,” she replied.
They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two thundering, tricky tortoises dancing at a very arrogant rave, which had drum and bass music playing in the background and two incredible uncles smiling to the beat.
- Suddenly, Alison lunged forward and tried to punch Michelle in the face. Quickly, Michelle grabbed the silver knife and brought it down on Alison’s skull.
- Alison‘s skinny fingers trembled and her beautiful feet wobbled.
- She looked barmy, her emotions raw like a glamorous, gifted guillotine.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Alison Donaldson was dead. Michelle Platt went back inside and made herself a nice cup of tea.