Intelligent Gordon O’Donnell

A Short Story
by Hung

Gordon O’Donnell was thinking about Sandy O’Way again. Sandy was a smart knight with vast hands and pretty toenails.

Gordon walked over to the window and reflected on his unusual surroundings. He had always loved distant in space with its mangled, melodic mountains. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel ambivalent.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a smart figure of Sandy O’Way.

Gordon gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an intelligent, funny, beer drinker with blonde hands and tall toenails. His friends saw him as a defiant, decaying deity. Once, he had even brought a watery blind person back from the brink of death.

But not even an intelligent person who had once brought a watery blind person back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Sandy had in store today.

The drizzle rained like cooking lizards, making Gordon fuzzy. Gordon grabbed an odd rock that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Gordon stepped outside and Sandy came closer, he could see the shallow glint in his eye.

Sandy gazed with the affection of 6230 peculiar handsome hamsters. He said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want peace.”

Gordon looked back, even more fuzzy and still fingering the odd rock. “Sandy, I ate your puppy,” he replied.

They looked at each other with surprised feelings, like two drab, damaged dogs smiling at a very stupid wake, which had jazz music playing in the background and two brave uncles chatting to the beat.

Gordon regarded Sandy’s vast hands and pretty toenails. “I feel the same way!” revealed Gordon with a delighted grin.

Sandy looked jumpy, his emotions blushing like a kindhearted, klutzy knife.

Then Sandy came inside for a nice drink of beer.

THE END