07.18hrs.
Annie is dreaming of fur-lined slippers as she sidesteps a snail, and her slight shiver is caused by a distinct nip in the air, rather than the basilisk glare hurled at her from behind the net curtains. Another half hour before getting up, she decides, shutting the door, but is suddenly wide awake as an intruder appears from the kitchen. It is a small man with a large gun.
A good six inches shorter than Annie, he cuts a peculiar figure with his tubby physique, extraordinarily bushy eyebrows and horn-rimmed glasses in a style so far undiscovered by hipsters and Post Modern ironists. He would perhaps resemble nothing so much as a garden gnome were it not for the pink rabbit onesie he is wearing. When he speaks it is in an incongruous basso profundo, with a pleasant Geordie lilt.
"Come with me if you want to live, pet".
Post number 2, and we already have a dwarf!!! Sterling work, Mr Batarde!!
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I wanted Annie to have a cigarette hanging out of her mouth!
ReplyDeleteMake it so!
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And somebody better jump in OR, I will write Chapter 14, part 5!
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I can't get past that onsie...
ReplyDeleteThe story of the onesie....
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Iris didn't see that coming! Or did she?
ReplyDeleteBravo, Batarde!
P.S. I can't help but imagine a Ronnie Corbett sized Ronnie Barker with Norman Lamont's eyebrows in that rabbit onesie.
hahaha. now I see it, too.
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