Controlling Kevin Ball

Controlling Kevin BallA Short Storyby Jane DoeKevin Ball looked at the ribbed record in his hands and felt cross. He walked over to the window and reflected on his idyllic surroundings. He had always loved hilly Truro with its slobbering, squealing swamps. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel cross. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Roger Pitt. Roger was a brave animal with wide hands and curvy legs.