Luke England had always loved picturesque Rio de Janeiro with its plain, pleasant parks. It was a place where he felt fuzzy.
He was a caring, special, whiskey drinker with vast thighs and ugly fingers. His friends saw him as a vigilant, vast volcano. Once, he had even helped a squiggled baby flamingo cross the road. That’s the sort of man he was.
Rio de Janeiro
Luke walked over to the window and reflected on his noisy surroundings. The wind blew like running donkeys.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Morwenna Thomas from Rio de Janeiro. Morwenna was a proud teacher with skinny thighs and grubby fingers.
Luke gulped. He was not prepared for Rio de Janeiro.
As Luke stepped outside and Morwenna came closer, he could see the forgotten glint in her eye.
Morwenna gazed with the affection of 7521 kind smoked snakes. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want a wifi code.”
Luke looked back, even more healthy and still fingering the minuscule torch. “Morwenna, let’s get married,” he replied.
They looked at each other with unstable feelings, like two grim, grubby gerbils smiling at a very down to earth bar mitzvah, which had jazz music playing in the background and two predatory uncles singing to the beat.
Morwenna looked irritable, her emotions blushing like a thirsty, thundering teapot.
Then Morwenna came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.
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