Two Selfish Uncles Chatting to the Beat A Short Story by Random Writer Tommy Johnson looked at the tiny teapot in his hands and felt ecstatic. He walked over to the window and reflected on his crowded surroundings. He had always loved old-fashioned Sydney with its ice-dancing, icy igloos. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel ecstatic. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Jenny Randall. Jenny was an admirable friend with solid fingernails and red feet.
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