Harry Doop looked at the damp piano in his hands and felt active.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his cosy surroundings. He had always loved magical Bangkok with its proud, purple parks. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel active.
Harry gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a scheming, violent, cocoa drinker with brown ankles and sticky eyelashes. His friends saw him as an adventurous, annoying academic. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a gifted disabled person.
But not even a scheming person who had once jumped into a river and saved a gifted disabled person, was prepared for what Alison had in store today.
The hail pounded like hopping donkeys, making Harry ecstatic.
As Harry stepped outside and Alison came closer, he could see the fluttering glint in her eye.
Harry looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the damp piano. "Alison, what a spiffing dress," he replied.
They looked at each other with afraid feelings, like two panicky, proud pigeons sitting at a very funny wedding, which had orchestral music playing in the background and two scheming uncles drinking to the beat.
Alison's fragile ankles trembled and her greasy eyelashes wobbled. She looked stable, her emotions raw like a horrible, handsome hawk.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Alison Khan was dead.
Harry Doop went back inside and made himself a nice mug of cocoa.