Witty Maud Zeus A Short Story by Jane Doe Maud Zeus looked at the weathered rock in her hands and felt stable. She walked over to the window and reflected on her industrial surroundings. She had always loved cold Truro with its attractive, abundant arches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel stable. Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Fred Plumb. Fred was a brave angel with ruddy lips and curvaceous toenails.
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