A Short Story, Central West End
by Tofi

Gwai Chen looked at the damp transit pass in his hands and felt angry.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his snooty surroundings. He had always hated urban Central West End with its tasteless, teeny-tiny tunnels. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel angry.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Maud Dense. Maud was a vile friend with greasy eyebrows and spiky legs.

Gwai gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a tight-fisted, delightful, beer drinker with ugly eyebrows and fat legs. His friends saw him as a bad, blue banker. Once, he had even helped a dizzy deaf person recover from a flying accident.

But not even a tight-fisted person who had once helped a dizzy deaf person recover from a flying accident, was prepared for what Maud had in store today.

The sun shone like chatting badgers, making Gwai healthy.

As Gwai stepped outside and Maud came closer, he could see the depressed glint in her eye.

Maud gazed with the affection of six thousand spiteful eager elephants. She said, in hushed tones, “I love you and I want equality.”

Gwai looked back, even more healthy and still fingering the damp pass. “Maud, let’s get married,” he replied.

They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two gleaming, glorious goldfish cooking at a very callous holiday, which had R & B music playing in the background and two selfish uncles boating to the beat.

Gwai studied Maud’s greasy eyebrows and spiky legs. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” began Gwai in apologetic tones, “but I don’t feel the same way, and I never will. I just don’t love you Maud.”

Maud looked anxious; her emotions raw like a bulbous, blue-eyed blade.

Gwai could actually hear Maud’s emotions shatter into one thousand pieces. Then the vile friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of beer would calm Gwai’s nerves tonight.

THE END