Green Fingers. 100 Word Wednesday.
I ordered a vegetarian pizza with personality and was impressed with its photo-fit likeness of Sally. I fell over laughing. She stormed off taking the jeep. I begged her to return, but she cleared out my account and left to live up north with Hashish Bob. I counted myself lucky, it was a stolen jeep, and scammed account, but still I miss her, those pearly white dentures, large doe like eyes and her envious warm nature. Occasionally, I would find curly green fibres in my bed and I’d cry. Without her magical green fingers my life has gone to waste.