Hello there, you! Welcome to the Wewriwa Easter edition. Does it have to rain all the time, I'm asking, naggingly? Is that really necessary? It makes for a good underwater egg hunt this year. :) Anywho, back to the story in 8, my attempt to tell a whole story in only 8 sentences. Actually, this snippet is from a short story I wrote this year called The Impostor. I thought it had the bold potential to withstand being cut and edited into 8 sentences. Now I'm not sure. Is it?
These were all lonely women, every one of them, lonely and very very rich, especially this one, Augustine, the name of an old duck. She was a hard nut to crack. For weeks, Paul had made several attempts to meet her, but as withdrawn as she was, she hardly even made eye contact with the world.
He had to resort to drastic measures; and deliberately running into her shopping cart with his was indeed drastic. It wasn't exactly cute, the way she almost tipped over and against the shelf with stacks of canned fruit, but it put a chink in her armor.
The next part was easy, as it fell in line with his natural talent. He spent the rest of the day paying court, pampering, and spoon-feeding her the usual repertoire of lies. She was just like any other woman he ever had deceived; gullible, desperate and starved for male attention.