Cowardly Barry Chan

A Short Story by R. S. Arrow-Blackay Barry Chan looked at the tattered teapot in his hands and felt delighted. He walked over to the window and reflected on his beautiful surroundings. He had always loved backward Truro with its jittery, jolly jungle. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel delighted. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Boris Russell. Boris was a callous giant with short fingers and wobbly elbows.