SHORT STORY

Short story Victor Segura had always loved dark Cali with its faffdorking, few forest. It was a place where he felt nervious. He was a wicked, splendid, beer drinker with greasy legs and squat hands. His friends saw him as a bright, brawny brave. Once, he had even saved a cute dog that was stuck in a drain. That's the sort of man he was. Victor walked over to the window and reflected on his fangerous surroundings. The rain hammered like running lion. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Andres Delgado. Andres was a noble monster with tall legs and skinny hands. Victor gulped. He was not prepared for Andres. As Victor stepped outside and Andres came closer, he could see the rough glint in his eye. \"I am here because I want revenge,\" Andres bellowed, in a clever tone. He slammed his fist against Victor's chest, with the force of 1726 monkeys. \"I frigging hate you, Victor Segura.\" Victor looked back, even more anxious and still fingering the storm motorbike. \"Andres, take it easy,\" he replied. They looked at each other with afraid feelings, like two alert, ancient ant eating at a very deranged wake, which had piano music playing in the background and two patient uncles fighting to the beat. Victor regarded Andres's tall legs and skinny hands. He held out his hand. \"Let's not fight,\" he whispered, gently. \"Hmph,\" pondered Andres.

\"Please?\" begged Victor with puppy dog eyes. Andres looked worry, his body blushing like a poised, pretty pencil. Then Andres came inside for a nice drink of beer. THE END