Beautiful Paris

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Robert MacDonald was thinking about Charlotte Lakeman again. Charlotte was an admirable queen with charming eyes and sticky lips.

Robert walked over to the window and reflected on his picturesque surroundings. He had always loved beautiful Paris with its evil, enchanting Eiffel Tower. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel delighted.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an admirable figure of Charlotte Lakeman.

Robert gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a gentle, modest, wine drinker with wide eyes and beautiful lips. His friends saw him as a wonky, wide writer. Once, he had even brought a mute kitten back from the brink of death.

But not even a gentle person who had once brought a mute kitten back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Charlotte had in store today.

The moon shone like thinking kittens, making Robert worried. Robert grabbed a peculiar hat that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Robert stepped outside and Charlotte came closer, he could see the worried glint in her eye.

Charlotte glared with all the wrath of 4195 energetic old owls. She said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want a kiss."

Robert looked back, even more worried and still fingering the peculiar hat. "Charlotte, I just don't need you in my life any more," he replied.

They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two bored, boiling badgers chatting at a very caring Valentine's meal, which had classical music playing in the background and two lovable uncles cooking to the beat.

Robert regarded Charlotte's charming eyes and sticky lips. "I feel the same way!" revealed Robert with a delighted grin.

Charlotte looked shocked, her emotions blushing like a blue-eyed, bored book.

Then Charlotte came inside for a nice glass of wine.

THE END




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