140 or less

140 characters or less in which to tell a story

The new kitten was asleep on a cushion when the mouse attacked.

His obsession with measurements had cost him his marriage, but it proved to be quite helpful in prison.

The house had burnt down, but Ethel knew it would be all right. She still had her Carmen rollers and her water wings.

“I can’t swim, sir”. “Can’t swim? You’re a bloody Marine, Bridges. Get in there and save that duck.”

I found this photograph of us on the fridge. It smells of cheap whisky.

Ignatius P was descended from the black and white tribe of Fitzroy Square.

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