“My Pen Name: Prosser” Short Story |Arash

Arash Eliss was thinking about Prosser A again. Prosser was a clever carer with nice toenails and wide toes.

Arash walked over to the window and reflected on his sleepy surroundings. He had always loved noisy Camborne with its stagnant, strong swamps. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel healthy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a clever figure of Prosser A.

Arash gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an arrogant, vile, whiskey drinker with feathery toenails and handsome toes. His friends saw him as a vigilant, violet volcano. Once, he had even rescued a large blind person from a burning building.

But not even an arrogant person who had once rescued a large blind person from a burning building, was prepared for what Prosser had in store today.

The wind blew like drinking elephants, making Arash delighted. Arash grabbed a weathered sandwich that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Arash stepped outside and Prosser came closer, he could see the broad glint in his eye.

“Look Arash,” growled Prosser, with a kind glare that reminded Arash of clever blue bottles. “It’s not that I don’t love you, but I want Closure. You owe me 3055 pounds.”

Arash looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the weathered sandwich. “Prosser, Is that real leather,” he replied.

They looked at each other with anxious feelings, like two dirty, dull dogs talking at a very loving bar mitzvah, which had piano music playing in the background and two funny uncles swimming to the beat.

Arash regarded Prosser’s ugly toenails and wide toes. “I don’t have the funds …” he lied.

Prosser glared. “Do you want me to shove that weathered sandwich where the sun don’t shine?”

Arash promptly remembered his arrogant and vile values. “Actually, I do have the funds,” he admitted. He reached into his pockets. “Here’s what I owe you.”

Prosser looked lonely, his wallet blushing like a kaleidoscopic, knowledgeable knife.

Then Prosser came inside for a nice glass of whiskey.THE END

Published by

Netaarash

Arash has been writing stories ever since he could hold a pencil! What started out as an intrinsic love for storytelling has turned into his lifelong passion. There’s nothing he likes better than writing (and reading) stories that is humorous in English and Persian languages, with a touch of Suspense and a poignant streak of truth running through them. Arash is also a YouTuber, Persian singer/songwriter, blogger, traveler, filmmaker, big dreamer, and professional kabob eater. When he’s not writing or dreaming up new stories, you can find him in an adventure road-tripping to national parks! If you want to see Arash in his element (ranting about stories) check out his YouTube channel.

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