Nonsense story about bitter melon

Julia Tran had always loved sleepy Harrisburg with its annoying, alive bitter melon. It was a place where she felt overly relaxed.

She was a cold-blooded, daring, Heinekeen drinker with greasy lips and brown feet. Her friends saw her as a terrible, thirsty duck. Once, she had even helped a sparkling puppy recover from a flying accident. That's the sort of woman she was.

Julia walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. The sun shone like drinking dogs.

Then she saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mai Nguyen. Mai was a ruthless bear with curvy lips and beautiful hair.

Julia gulped. She was not prepared for Mai.

As Julia stepped outside and Mai came closer, she could see the brown glint in her eye.

"Look Julia," growled Mai, with a delightful glare that reminded Julia of ruthless mice. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want a bitter melon. You owe me one dollar. "

Julia looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the cursed kettle. "Mai, eat my shorts," she replied.

They looked at each other with relaxed feelings, like two gifted, gentle guppies chatting at a very incredible funeral, which had piano music playing in the background and two thoughtless uncles loving to the beat.

Julia regarded Mai's curvy lips and beautiful feet. "I don't have the funds ..." she lied.

Mai glared. "Do you want me to shove that cursed kettle where the sun don't shine?"

Julia promptly remembered her cold-blooded and daring values. "Actually, I do have the funds," she admitted. She reached into her pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Mai looked ambivalent, her wallet blushing like a short, smoked sandwich.

Then Mai came inside for a nice drink of Heinekeen.

THE END

Photo of bitter melon taken in Harrisburg on my stop to Pittsburgh this afternoon.