The Crumpled Rock A Short Story by Mr Pseudonym Christian Gobble looked at the crumpled rock in his hands and felt lonely. He walked over to the window and reflected on his wild surroundings. He had always loved deserted Glasgow with its grubby, grim gates. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel lonely. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Georgina Hemingway. Georgina was a predatory monster with scrawny thighs and chubby lips.
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