Chantal Platt had always loved San Francisco with its sad, sturdy Sky Houses. A place where she felt Stressed.
She was courageous, hopeful and avid whiskey drinker with ample Hands and charming fingers. Her friends saw her as a damaged, decomposing doctor. Once, she had even brought a kindly old man back from the brink of death. That’s the sort of woman she once was.
Chantal walked over to the nearby apartment window and reflected on her backward surroundings. The clouds danced like shouting pigeons drizzling rain as they went.
She saw someone, as he drew closer she lit up with joy believing he was her night in shining armor.. It was the figure of Daniel Platt. Daniel was a lovable lawyer with short Hands and brunette fingers.
Chantal gulped. She was not prepared for Daniel.
As Chantal stepped outside and Daniel came closer, she could see the gigantic glint in his eye.
Daniel glared with all the wrath of 7536 admirable putrid puppies. He said, in hushed tones, “I hate you after what happened though I want love.”
Chantal looked back, even more concerned and still fingering the Chinese finger trap she’d mastered. “Daniel, I don’t have the money, to help us both out of this. If I let you in it could end your career.” she replied.
“I know what I said earlier, that is just a superficial job. They exist everywhere. I have the funds all I need is a queen, My heart is set Chantal.
They looked at each other with afraid feelings no help from the rain, like two forgotten, flipping frogs drinking at a very hilarious Engagement Party, which had reggae music playing in the background and two special love blind people laughing to the beat.
Chantal regarded Daniel’s short Hands and brunette fingers. “I feel the same way!” revealed Chantal with a delighted grin.
Daniel looked shocked, his emotions blushing like a petite, precious piano.
Then Daniel came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.
The bank rapped on the front door as they tacked an eviction notice to the screen, Chantal opened the door with shock as she came face to face with the bank debt collector.
“Good afternoon Ms Platt, I hate to be the bearer of bad news but your company has ran out of assets to sell. You can no longer afford an up state apartment. I have arranged a qualification meeting downtown fir you at 2pm tomorrow. This eviction is set for seven days, goodbye.”
Slamming the door she collapsed begind it.
2 thoughts on “Charming Fingers”
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