The Sun that Shone like Smiling Mice A Short Story by Anonymous Flora Raymond looked at the warped sandwich in her hands and felt barmy. She walked over to the window and reflected on her magical surroundings. She had always loved deprived Los Angeles with its unknown, uncooked umbrellas. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel barmy. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Wenna DeVito. Wenna was a controlling lawyer with grubby eyebrows and fragile lips.
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