dusk-fox

Alfred F. Jones sighed and tossed the book onto his couch. It’s wasn’t as if he didn’t appreciate the gift, it was just the act of reading itself was so strenuous! England knew all too well that Alfred didn’t read much, so his birthday gift for the young nation was a simple read, encased in a whimsical, dusty old cover. “But WHY,” Alfred groaned to himself, running his hands over his face irritably, “couldn’t he just take me to see the Tim Burton film when it came out instead? I like movies better than books and he knows it!” But oh, no, that jerk had to go and give him a book. Why actua