thless Crow Bird
A Short Story
by yourmom
Crow Bird was thinking about Wolverine Dog again. Wolverine was a cowardly brute with greasy ankles and furry legs.
Crow walked over to the window and reflected on his crowded surroundings. He had always hated wild Glasgow with its unpleasant, unnatural umbrellas. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel anxious.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a cowardly figure of Wolverine Dog.
Crow gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a ruthless, peculiar, ice coffee drinker with feathery ankles and brunette legs. His friends saw him as an annoying, alive alcoholic. Once, he had even helped a smooth Jessica cross the road.
But not even a ruthless person who had once helped a smooth Jessica cross the road, was prepared for what Wolverine had in store today.
The rain hammered like yelling pigeons, making Crow afraid. Crow grabbed a cursed sausage that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Crow stepped outside and Wolverine came closer, he could see the alert smile on his face.
Wolverine glared with all the wrath of 6446 virtuous odd owls. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want revenge."
Crow looked back, even more afraid and still fingering the cursed sausage. "Wolverine, I'm in love with you," he replied.
They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two mashed, melted mice loving at a very spiteful accident, which had piano music playing in the background and two sinister uncles rampaging to the beat.
Crow studied Wolverine's greasy ankles and furry legs. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Crow in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't hate you Wolverine."
Wolverine looked sad, his emotions raw like a knotty, kooky knife.
Crow could actually hear Wolverine's emotions shatter into 4440 pieces. Then the cowardly brute hurried away into the distance.
Not even a drink of ice coffee would calm Crow's nerves tonight.
THE END
