• In a small town west of London near the border was a small town. Its inhabitants were innovative and still used the old English ways. They had no Publix but instead a farmers market. That town was a queer one. People always milling about in odd fashions. People with the thick accents you cant quite define. A beautiful town with old gothic buildings. It was Dorelila. In this town lived our victims for today's storie. Arla Storie and George Lummington.
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    Arla was an inventor. Always finding a new problem. Always finding a way to fix it. She was 21. She had beautiful soft blonde hair that was long and straight, never frizzy. She had a long face. So skinny and thin it looked disfigured. She had furry eyebrows and thin lips. A witch’s nose and brown flat and muddy eyes. She had a perfect hourglass figure and lean tall body. Her skin was pale and fragile looking. Yet that face, that hideous face. All in all an ugly duckling, stuck in the half way point of ugly and beautiful. Almost no one looked her way.

    George had high cheekbones and deep dark blue eyes. He had shaggy brown hair and childhood roundness still remaining on his face though he was 25. He was of medium height and muscular. He was the only one that ever looked Arla’s way. He was quite a heartbreaking sight to any outsider . Why do i say outsider ? There were much more beautiful sights than this boy in Dorelila.
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    Arla had been having trouble for the last two weeks with her inventions. How could she tan rabbit pelts more effectively. No matter what they ended up either shriveled or perfect with random timings; some would take two days, others two hours. She took another swig of beer. She just couldn’t figure it out.

    George sat at the other end of the bar. All the people in the room who looked at George thought he was looking at the menu conveniently placed behind Arla’s head. But alas, he was looking Arla’s way once again. What a beautiful girl, he thought, if only I could help her. He sighed.

    Arla sighed too, but not for the same reason. Just great, Arla thought, I can’t figure out how to fix this problem and dad has drunk a gallon of gasoline again and is sleeping in front of the auto store shop. She shook her head in disapproval and took another swig. She didn’t have to worry about hangovers anymore. She had invented a way to fix that too. Suddenly an idea popped into her head. Clone the rabbits, she thought, they’ll all have the same pigmentation and take the same amount of time to tan!!! The bar was empty at this point. Only her, George, and the sleeping bartender remained for it was 5 a.m.

    “By George”, She screamed,” I’ve done it!!!” She stood up so quickly that her chair fell over.

    “Yes?” George said with a hopeful expression on his face. But Arla didn’t notice that. She was much too preoccupied with planning. She ran out the door without sparing him a glance and was out of sight in a matter of seconds.

    After 2 minutes Arla returned and said,” Oh, not you George. I couldn’t care less about you.”

    She left once again.

    Once she left his face showed the most tragically painful expression. He banged his head against the table again and again. Nobody saw his pain. Nobody bore witness to it. Nobody knew of his infatuation.
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    He soon left the bar and walked over to the ravine beside Dorelila. He sat at the cliff’s edge wondering what he could have done to deserve such a fate. He sat there unmoving until sunset. He stood up. This was his favorite place to be at this time, it was the last place he would be. He closed his eyes and jumped off the cliff. During his fall he imagined that his fantasies with Arla had come true and that they were sitting at that very cliff watching the sun set that she was sitting in his lap and he had his arms around her.

    Arla stood outside the door to his house and thought about what she was about to do. She was going to go in there apologize for last night and ask him to dinner. She regretted that immediately. Butterflies battered her stomach so forcefully that she fell onto the cobblestone. Her head cracked against the stones. She tried to scream but no noise came out. Why this could possibly be happening to her. Then an image of George flashed into her thoughts. The butterflies tried to escape the confines of her ribs again. She had probably been in love with him this whole time but had never admitted to it.

    Nobody came and nobody noticed her limp body lying in front of the house for three days. Then squirrels came and carried her away to the woods where a hawk carried her away towards the ravine….
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