The Sleet that Rained like Laughing Lizards

A Short Story
by Untitled writer

Carla Wishmonger was thinking about Sarah Randall again.

Sarah was a snotty painter with wide thighs and fragile lips.

Carla walked over to the window and reflected on her grand

surroundings. She had always loved industrial Skegness with its
flat, fair fields. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel
stressed.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It

was the a snotty figure of Sarah Randall.

Carla gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was an

intuitive, peculiar, port drinker with hairy thighs and ample lips.
Her friends saw her as an ashamed, average author. Once, she
had even revived a dying, old man.

But not even an intuitive person who had once revived a dying,
old man, was prepared for what Sarah had in store today.

The sleet rained like laughing lizards, making Carla angry. Carla
grabbed a cursed hawk that had been strewn nearby; she
massaged it with her fingers.

As Carla stepped outside and Sarah came closer, she could see
the puny glint in her eye.

"Look Carla," growled Sarah, with a kind glare that reminded

Carla of snotty gerbils. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want
revenge. You owe me 5659 gold pieces."

Carla looked back, even more angry and still fingering the cursed
hawk. "Sarah, I shrunk the kids," she replied.

They looked at each other with shocked feelings, like two hissing,
horrible horses rampaging at a very energetic holiday, which had
R & B music playing in the background and two hopeful uncles
talking to the beat.

Carla regarded Sarah's wide thighs and fragile lips. "I don't have
the funds ..." she lied.
Sarah glared. "Do you want me to shove that cursed hawk where
the sun don't shine?"

Carla promptly remembered her intuitive and peculiar values.

"Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into
her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Sarah looked sleepy, her wallet blushing like a panicky, pleasant

piano.

Then Sarah came inside for a nice glass of port.

THE END