Derelict San Francisco

A Short Story
by qhnra


Alice Lakeman was thinking about Fred Vader again. Fred was a hilarious lover with pretty lips and pointy hands.

Alice walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. She had always hated derelict San Francisco with its raw, rough rivers. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel sad.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a hilarious figure of Fred Vader.

Alice gulped. She glanced at her own reflection. She was a brave, cowardly, cocoa drinker with pink lips and slimy hands. Her friends saw her as a clever, cloudy coward. Once, she had even revived a dying, toddler.

But not even a brave person who had once revived a dying, toddler, was prepared for what Fred had in store today.

The sleet rained like laughing flamingos, making Alice unstable. Alice grabbed a ribbed gun that had been strewn nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Alice stepped outside and Fred came closer, she could see the poised glint in his eye.

"I am here because I want a kiss," Fred bellowed, in a malicious tone. He slammed his fist against Alice's chest, with the force of 5894 horses. "I frigging love you, Alice Lakeman."

Alice looked back, even more unstable and still fingering the ribbed gun. "Fred, I'm in love with you," she replied.

They looked at each other with active feelings, like two kindhearted, kaleidoscopic koalas shouting at a very loving wedding, which had orchestral music playing in the background and two sinister uncles partying to the beat.

Suddenly, Fred lunged forward and tried to punch Alice in the face. Quickly, Alice grabbed the ribbed gun and brought it down on Fred's skull.

Fred's pretty lips trembled and his pointy hands wobbled. He looked surprised, his body raw like a rapid, rabble-snatching rock.

Then he let out an agonizing groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Fred Vader was dead.

Alice Lakeman went back inside and made herself a nice mug of cocoa.THE END