Laura and Mr. Happy's Meeting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A love story gone wrong.

Submitted: December 11, 2011

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Submitted: December 11, 2011






“Raindrops be fallin’ on my head…”  sang my beloved as I walked closer to the window in which she was dancing about.  She held her new rag doll up above her head and tied something to it.  She then threw it directly at me.  My lovely always did things like this.

“AAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!”  She screamed at the top of her lungs as I dodged that doll with a stiff sway.  As it passed by my head, I could smell her warm scent still lingering from every stitch she sewed on with love.  I adjusted my hat and smiled.  Oh the silly things she did.

I climbed up through the now-broken window and headed down the dimly lit hall in search of that adorable, simple creature I called my love.  My plan was to surprise her with a gentle kiss she was sure to show her passions of.

“Saw you!”  She hollered from behind the white kitchen counter, her dark red curls hovering on top of two tiles as if they needed the licks of her fiery hair to survive.

“Nooo you did-iiinnt!”  I answered smiling and putting the small box on my fingertips.  The velvet on it was her favourite colour, a deep dark red as dark as her hair with a big yellow rose on top to seal both sides of the ribbon.

Oh how I longed for her brightly surprised face on that scene: me on one knee, her hands on her baby blue princess skirt smiling and saying how she was going to call the cops.  “Oh Laura,” I sighed and walked on.  When I found her, she was sitting on her favourite brown couch without any legs.

“Laura.”  I said, arms wide.  “How are you my sweetie?”

“Same old, same old…here,” she replied and stood up.  “Take a seat.”  She led me to the couch, her frail, pale fingers on the arm sleeve of my dusty tuxedo. 

“I’ll be right back with ummmm refreshments.”  And with that, she was off.  My Laura always knew what was best.  When my button eye fell, she stitched a new one on.  When the stuffing out of my right arm fell out, she stuffed it back in with surgeon-like precision.  At tea parties, she dressed us both in ballerina skirts and we’d drink for hours.

Suddendly, I felt three sharp piercings through my head for my Laura had come in with three sharp refreshments, each sharper than the previous.

“Marry me?” I extended the hand holding the ring as I lay motionless on the floor.

“AAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!” She yelled as she ran out of the room and towards the prairie house’s back door.

“Laura! Hold on!” I chased after her with one of the sharp refreshments opening the side of my head slowly, letting the white fluffy stuffing flow out gracefully.

“Why are you back?!”

“Why I never left.”

“But I poisoned you yea!”

“Oh yes you did but—“

“And didn’t I also throw you under the street sweeper?”

“Why yes but—“

“And what about the napalm?”

“All mistakes but I know how clumsy you are.”

She then promptly hit me with a shovel and buried me where I am now.  Oh my Laura.

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