The Hail That Pounded Like Walking Rats

The Hail that Pounded like Walking Rats A Short Story by Mr Pseudonym Mavis Olsson was thinking about Katy Slaughterhouse again. Katy was a remarkable deity with vast abs and chubby toes. Mavis walked over to the window and reflected on her old-fashioned surroundings. She had always loved damp Truro with its decomposing, defeated ditches. It was a place that encouraged her tendency to feel fuzzy.