In the weeks before Christmas, not even the creatures are stirring.
Even the zombies and the walking dead are staying home.
Restaurants are either shuttering their doors and windows or opening later and closing earlier.
I’m picking up supper on the fly, munching on prepackaged breakfast sandwiches and eating soup out of Styrofoam cups with plastic spoons.
My collection of white plastic spoons and forks boggles the mind.
Meantime, I’m beginning to feel like a paper napkin.
My throat is as parched as a paper napkin.
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