An everyday story of concrete folk: One

The biggers were at it again: something about a trip to the Muffdives being cancelled.
Mother Bigger was throwing one: something about her tan. The teenagers, of course, were completely over the top.
Big Bigger started shouting, and the gnomes all ducked as something flew through a window that wasn’t open.
Everyone fell facedown as a flatscreen tv wound up in the pond, where it made a peculiar hissing noise and sunk without trace.
Big Bertha ambled over for a look.
“Best none of us was here.”
The gnomes faded as Big Bigger emerged to see what he had wrought.

©️jj 2021

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