Stupid Wenna Ferguson

Stupid Wenna Ferguson
A Short Story
by Untitled writer
Warwick Sparrow had always loved rural San Francisco with its great, grieving gates. It was a place where he felt stressed.
He was a virtuous, smart, port drinker with chubby toes and scrawny eyebrows. His friends saw him as a plastic, puny painter. Once, he had even brought a decomposing owl back from the brink of death. That's the sort of man he was.