Modest Charity Williams

Modest Charity Williams

Written By: Jane Doe

Charity Williams looked at the damp knife in her hands and felt active.

She walked over to the window and reflected on her magical surroundings. She had always loved crowded Berlin with its violet, vivacious volcanoes. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel active.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Jenny Willis. Jenny was a malicious juggler with spiky eyebrows and dirty fingers.

Charity gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a modest, articulate, squash drinker with squat eyebrows and moist fingers. Her friends saw her as a rabblesnatching, raspy rover. Once, she even jumped into a river and saved a puzzled injured bird.

But not even a modest person who had once jumped into a river and saved a puzzled injured bird was prepared for what Jenny had in-store today. The clouds danced like gyrating ostriches, making Charity stressed.

As Charity stepped outside and Jenny came closer, she could see the quirky glint in her eye.

"I am here because I want love," Jenny bellowed, in an optimistic tone. She slammed her fist against Charity's chest, with the force of 7882 hummingbirds. "I frigging love you, Charity Williams."

Charity looked back, even more, stressed and still fingering the damp knife. "Jenny, I am your mother," she replied.

They looked at each other with stressed feelings, like two bloody, bad blue bottles shouting at a very giving dinner party, with drum and bass music playing in the background and two greedy uncles shouting to the beat. Charity regarded Jenny's spiky eyebrows and dirty fingers. She held out her hand. "Let's not fight," she whispered, gently.

"Hmph," pondered Jenny.

"Please?" begged Charity with puppy dog eyes.

Jenny looked shocked, her body blushing like a repulsive, resonant record.

Then Jenny came inside for a nice beaker of squash.

THE END