Perrywinkle and the Fishy Fishmonger

In the outskirts of Bristol, England, on the northwestern corner of Cherryshire and Frankenberry streets, you would find the smallest park in all the British Isles. And within that park, in a tiny nook between the Sansapple trees and thick Honeybustle bushes there stood a tiny wooden house with a black tiled roof. And within the house lived an even tinier man called Perrywinkle, who stood 3 feet and 3 inches tall, thank you very much.

Perrywinkle’s clothes were old and faded, but were always clean and smelled of lilac. He hadn’t a single hair on his head, but sported a GREAT big black mustache that was always perfectly coiffed into tiny circular whisps at each end. And if you ever happened to knock on his door, and give him a POUND, Old Perrywinkle would tell you a story.

On that bright, sunny day in May when I found myself visiting the old man for one of his Furley-cheese crumpets and a tale from his past, I found him instead in quite a sour mood indeed.

“Thomund the Fishmonger!” He chortled. “He BILKS his customers! I’ve just been round his docks to buy some carp and I saw everyone around in quite a HISSY!”

“Now Perrywinkle,” I said. “You’re quite out of sorts my friend. Let’s calm down and have a spot of tea. Of course, we’ve known there was something quite FISHY going on at Thomund’s place for a while, so let’s go get to the bottom of it at once!”

-From Wordle Puzzle 1/29/2023

Artwork by Mason Rice

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