The Snow that Flurried like Sitting Koalas A Short Story by Jane Doe Bob Jolie looked at the squidgy teapot in his hands and felt irritable. He walked over to the window and reflected on his chilly surroundings. He had always loved derelict Oxford with its purring, purple parks. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel irritable. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Garth Cockle. Garth was a greedy academic with wide lips and skinny fingers.
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