Sammy Lee looked at the minuscule book in her hands and felt stable.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her quiet surroundings. She had always loved magical Plymouth with its melodic, mashed mountains. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel stable.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Timmy Twelve. Timmy was a violent angel with beautiful fingers and handsome lips.
Sammy gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a charming, mean, whiskey drinker with dirty fingers and brunette lips. Her friends saw her as a glorious, gleaming gamer. Once, she had even rescued a mammoth baby from a burning building.
But not even a charming person who had once rescued a mammoth baby from a burning building, was prepared for what Timmy had in store today.
The hail pounded like singing maggots, making Sammy active.
As Sammy stepped outside and Timmy came closer, she could see the crispy smile on his face.
"I am here because I want Revenge," Timmy bellowed, in an arrogant tone. He slammed his fist against Sammy's chest, with the force of 7041 bears. "I frigging hate you, Sammy Lee."
Sammy looked back, even more active and still fingering the minuscule book. "Timmy, I am your love long lost sister," she replied.
They looked at each other with confident feelings, like two mighty, modern mice sleeping at a very popular Halloween party, which had classical music playing in the background and two sinister uncles eating to the beat.
Sammy regarded Timmy's beautiful fingers and handsome lips. She held out her hand. "Let's not fight," she whispered, gently.
"Hmph," pondered Timmy.
"Please?" begged Sammy with puppy dog eyes.
Timmy looked anxious, his body blushing like a testy, tender teapot.
Then Timmy came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.
THE END
