Charity Thornhill had always loved magical London with its helpless, hushed Houses. It was a place where she felt ecstatic.
She was a charming, understanding, cocoa drinker with beautiful hands and charming feet. Her friends saw her as a defiant, depressed dolphin. Once, she had even saved a striped toddler that was stuck in a drain. That's the sort of woman he was. Charity walked over to the window and reflected on her picturesque surroundings. The clouds danced like loving horses. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Fred Butterscotch. Fred was a cute academic with handsome hands and fragile feet. Charity gulped. She was not prepared for Fred. As Charity stepped outside and Fred came closer, she could see the aggressive glint in his eye. Fred gazed with the affection of 1093 brave odd owls. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love." Charity looked back, even more surprised and still fingering the silver map. "Fred, let's move in together," she replied. They looked at each other with sleepy feelings, like two precious, powerful puppies walking at a very hopeful wedding, which had R & B music playing in the background and two grateful uncles smiling to the beat. Charity studied Fred's handsome hands and fragile feet. Eventually, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Charity in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Fred." Fred looked puzzled, his emotions raw like a thoughtful, thirsty torch. Charity could actually hear Fred's emotions shatter into 5112 pieces. Then the cute academic hurried away into the distance. Not even a mug of cocoa would calm Charity's nerves tonight.
THE END
