The last thing I remember last night was the TV droning on as I sat in my recliner. That show Without a Trace was on the Escape channel – one of the few channels I get. My dear Maggie was sound asleep on the couch softly snoring. I leaned back in my lazy boy to get more comfortable and a moment later it was light outside and the clock read 7 AM. Now, that’s what I call a time warp in this neck of the woods. I had to look at the clock twice to make sure the time was correct.
The phone then rang loudly at eight. I hurried into the computer room to answer it.
“Do you want me to bring you and Maggie some breakfast?” Charlie asked. “I am at McDonald's now getting Horsefly’s morning biscuit.”
“I better stick to my diet,” I told Charlie of those calorific biscuits from McDonald’s. “And Maggie can stand to lose a few pounds as well.”
I almost felt guilty for refusing. Charlie so enjoys feeding the Magster and I.
I looked out the window and George was rummaging around in his laundry room on his carport. That’s where he keeps his beer as he likes to drink it lukewarm. Soon, I heard the familiar cracking open of a Miller High Life as he lit up a cigarette and sat down to enjoy his wares. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Vices start early around here it seems. I worry about George, though. I can hear him hacking up a lung from the back room of my house.
1 comment:
Could George be British? My UK friend thinks cold beer is disgusting. She only drinks it warm. Glad you are sticking to you diet! How's the shelter?
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