Reads: 359  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

A surreal short story.

Not everyone in the middle of the vegetable garden was a

good person, but the water that was coming out from the

siphon knew how to recognized them. For the most part they

were judicious boys, god's work so friable that could turn

into thrillers stories.

At a certain time some stones were thrown, and so the

weeping begun; a detail of the bedroom justified the actual

support of the bridge, where a marine factory spent its days

always in the company of adequate guests.

The city where this anecdote takes place is Pordenone,

ruthless like the outfit that it wears!

Absolutely without efficiency and clear of clouds was that

morning sky that pierced its first hours; a generic little bird,

agile and slim, had a brilliant idea: in less than 6 minutes he

went down the superb ramps of his tree, which was worth at

least two of the same.

It was a piece of cake, but with some questions. After a short

moment the bird's brain remembered of a typical marine

inlet, and in doing so the winged creature felt joy.

In some periods of the year the rain was eliminated in order

to fight the pollution that was developing underground, and

it was right at that moment that the mythological god of the

forest gave origin to the common plant, with a quick

arithmetic gesture. Like in a fable, for several days the water

nearest the plant was drinkable both hot or cold; this never

happened again thanks to whom it was killed because of a

literary dispute.

In the field in question now stood an English man made out

of cement, sarnik and lovek in his stare; the birds that often

landed on it, smeared the candelabra under them, which in

turn was aging youthfully. This thing was strutting on main

street at midnight, with evil instincts paired just like a

locomotive. He carried with him two maracas to play the

samba, and he promised many great things to all the people

that are willing to do anything for money.

That day the evening kept everybody waiting, and an

influential member of the flock helped the hunters home; the

breeze instead, with harsh manners, chase after only those

men that sometimes are misunderstood between the age of

20 and 40; the others had to withstand the heat.

Submitted: July 25, 2011

© Copyright 2021 camuspharna. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

More Humor Short Stories

Boosted Content from Other Authors

Short Story / Mystery and Crime

Miscellaneous / True Confessions

Book / Literary Fiction

Other Content by camuspharna

Short Story / Humor

Short Story / Humor