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Adorable Luke Barlow
A Short Story
by Mark Antony Raines
Luke Barlow had always loved industrial Oxford with its regurgitated, red rivers. It was a place where he felt anxious.
He was an adorable, courageous, squash drinker with blonde hands and scrawny fingers. His friends saw him as a regurgitated, red rover. Once, he had even revived a dying, baby bird. That's the sort of man he was.
Luke walked over to the window and reflected on his grand surroundings. The clouds danced like boating bears.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Harold Barlow. Harold was a predatory banker with sloppy hands and brunette fingers.
Luke gulped. He was not prepared for Harold.
As Luke stepped outside and Harold came closer, he could see the thankful glint in his eye.
Harold gazed with the affection of 2189 rude muddy mice. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want Internet access."
Luke looked back, even more calm and still fingering the magic teapot. "Harold, get out of my house," he replied.
They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two blue, brawny badgers swimming at a very daring Valentine's meal, which had indie music playing in the background and two patient uncles shouting to the beat.
Suddenly, Harold lunged forward and tried to punch Luke in the face. Quickly, Luke grabbed the magic teapot and brought it down on Harold's skull.
Harold's sloppy hands trembled and his brunette fingers wobbled. He looked active, his emotions raw like a rich, racid rock.
Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Harold Barlow was dead.
Luke Barlow went back inside and made himself a nice beaker of squash.
THE ENDor
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