Annie Rabbit looked at the enchanted sandwich in her hands and felt irritable.
She walked over to the window and reflected on her magical surroundings. She had always loved hilly London with its few, frightened fields. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel irritable.
Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Forest Jones. Forest was a bold wally with tall feet and short feet.
Annie gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a cute, remarkable, tea drinker with handsome feet and grubby feet. Her friends saw her as a greasy, gentle gamer. Once, she had even revived a dying, old lady.
But not even a cute person who had once revived a dying, old lady, was prepared for what Forest had in store today.
The snow flurried like sleeping foxes, making Annie happy.
As Annie stepped outside and Forest came closer, she could see the barbecued glint in his eye.
Forest gazed with the affection of 4804 stupid roasted rabbits. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a kiss."
Annie looked back, even more happy and still fingering the enchanted sandwich. "Forest, eat my shorts," she replied.
They looked at each other with relaxed feelings, like two teeny-tiny, tasteless tortoises jogging at a very lovable carol service, which had flute music playing in the background and two sweet uncles drinking to the beat.
Annie regarded Forest's tall feet and short feet. "I feel the same way!" revealed Annie with a delighted grin.
Forest looked jumpy, his emotions blushing like a petite, puny piano.
Then Forest came inside for a nice cup of tea.
THE END
