The Tiny Piano

A Short Story – by Tofi

Jenny MacDonald was thinking about Dan England again. Dan was a lovable carver with sticky hands and fluffy elbows.

Jenny walked over to the window and reflected on her sunny surroundings. She had always loved picturesque Falmouth with its mangled, massive mountains. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel lonely.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the lovable figure of Dan England.

Jenny gulped. She glanced at her reflection. She was a brave, thoughtful tea drinker with ginger hands and skinny elbows. Her friends saw her as a fancy, fluttering friend. Once, she had even helped a deafening old lady cross the road.

But not even a brave person who had once helped a deafening old lady cross the road was prepared for what Dan had in-store today.

The sun shone like hopping pigeons, making Jenny stressed. Jenny grabbed a tiny piano that had been sprayed nearby; she massaged it with her fingers.

As Jenny stepped outside and Dan came closer, she could see the perfect glint in his eye.

Dan gazed with the affection of 5928 articulate obedient owls. He said, in hushed tones, “I love you, and I want Internet access.”

Jenny looked back, even more, stressed and still fingering the tiny piano. “Dan, I just don’t need you in my life anymore,” she replied.

They looked at each other with puzzled feelings, like two small, super snakes loving at a very stable dinner party, which had trance music playing in the background and two funny uncles laughing to the beat.

Jenny regarded Dan’s sticky hands and fluffy elbows. “I feel the same way!” revealed Jenny with a delighted grin.

Dan looked concerned, his emotions blushing like a sad, stupid sandwich.

Then Dan came inside for a nice cup of tea. THE END

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The Tiny Piano

A Short Story – by Tofi Jenny MacDonald was thinking about Dan England again. Dan was a lovable carver with sticky hands and fluffy elbows.

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