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drinking and dying

1) I have another car wreck now appearing in a small small-press journal. I am averaging one publication per year. Yes, I am an over-achiever.

2) The mailroom is closed. Today was the final workday for our office. Most people left early. We are closed until January. But I work a couple half-days next week, because the mail will keep coming and coming. I love the term, "skeleton crew." I said good-bye to one of my favorite receptionists. All these bottles of isolation fluid arrived as gifts for people no longer with our office. The receptionist gave me one of her spare bottles, insisting she already had plenty at home. Such a dear sweet angel, she is.

3) I am spending Christmas in secret motel. I sent insincere Christmas cards to each of my parents. I find that insincere expressions are just as draining as sincere expressions.

4) Armed soldiers arrive to witness the birth of the sweet baby Jesus. They promptly slay the three wise men. One of the soldiers impales the sweet baby Jesus on the tip of his spear and roasts the newborn's body over an open fire. The other soldiers take turns raping Joseph, then Mary. They all agree that Mary was no virgin and that Joseph has a tighter ass. Then the soldiers sit down to feast on the cooked remains of the sweet baby Jesus. And the world will be a better place.

5) Rain welcomes me into its downpour. I welcome rain into my existence. May the blacktop never dry. May the tires never stop hissing. Busses and streetcars smell like wool coats and wet hair. I wait until the humans clear before I allow myself to enjoy the rain shining through the streetlights.

6) Goodnight, dear sweet imaginary reader.


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