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At the end of a long day, he reclined in bed beneath a gloriously rumpled pile of sheets and blankets. She walked in the room and eyed him.
“You want to make it?” she asked.
He smiled and lifted up the blankets. “You animal. I thought you were tired.”
“Not make it with me-I meant make the bed.”
“Oh,” he said, lowering the blankets. “Why would I make the bed right before going to sleep
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He lounged on the couch, watching television and eating pizza. The end of another blissful week of unemployment. No prospects on the horizon. He wasn’t worried about it; was, in fact, living the dream.
Beside him, his wife cursed through some technical manual she’d lugged home from work. The television blared a local news story about an old codger who ran a landscaping business using women in bikinis. Business was
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Stacey didn’t see her mother when she returned home from school. She went to her bedroom and was surprised to find a present wrapped in bright red paper sitting on the night table. Large black letters on the side of the box read: “Merry Christmas: Be forewarned…”
“So it’s a joke,” laughed Stacey, reaching out for the present. Her hands stopped in midair as she sensed a cold wind blowing. She thought of running from the room, but
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