Dear Sir, My apologies that this awful news arrives so close to the holidays but I had some difficulty tracking you down. Your friend, Mme. Valentina Velasquez, has died. Her death was sudden, unexpected but painless, if that eases your mind in any way, and I do hope it does.
When you get right down to it, there are really only two kinds of people in this world: those who brunch and those who do not. I don’t mean to generalize here but generally, Non-Brunchers are pretty easy to spot in a crowd. They’re the ones who take 17 different spin
If your morning has gone anything like mine, then you’ve spent it scraping dried-up cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes off piles of unwashed plates and wine-stained glasses. Why is it that the scrumptiousness of a Thanksgiving meal is directly proportional to the disgustingness of cleaning it up? Anyway, I’m working
From: Henry Littlesworth To: Marcus Trevan Subject: Your Job It’s over. Fax Me Up LLC is closing shop, effective immediately. Funny I should write this to you over email, the very thing that killed my fax business. Well, Rainforest Online Services killed us, too. Damn devil of a company. People
There was no way around it: Luna had lost the moon. The revelation was quick but biting and it happened last night around dusk. She had been sitting with her cat, Marama, on the hill overlooking a town fading to pale, evening blue and there assumed her usual moon-watching position: