Hilly Sydney A Short Story by Untitled writer Kevin Johnson looked at the peculiar teapot in his hands and felt puzzled. He walked over to the window and reflected on his picturesque surroundings. He had always loved hilly Sydney with its gifted, great gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel puzzled. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Daniel Williams. Daniel was a brave writer with grubby moles and curvy fingernails.
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