The little shop of horrors

by Polly Gon

Richard 111 stood in the middle of the shop humming a madrigal while sharpening his cut throat razor on a leather strop.
The bell above the door tinkled, the old woman stopped her grinding and peered through the dimness to see who had entered.
A boy wearing grey flannel shorts and carrying a fishing net stared longingly at the rows of jars stacked neatly along the wall behind the counter.
The boy licked his lips and asked for two ounces of midget gems.
The hairy biker sat in the chair, metal bands surrounded his legs, arms and middle. Richard 111 tested the sharpness of his razor and resumed his humming.
Richard 111 stood in the middle of the shop humming a madrigal while sharpening his cut throat razor on a leather strop.
The bell above the door tinkled, the old woman stopped her grinding and peered through the dimness to see who had entered.
A boy wearing grey flannel shorts and carrying a fishing net stared longingly at the rows of jars stacked neatly along the wall behind the counter.
The boy licked his lips and asked for two ounces of midget gems.
The hairy biker sat in the chair, metal bands surrounded his legs, arms and middle. Richard 111 tested the sharpness of his razor and resumed his humming.
please wait...remixing in progress...