Halloween.
John sits on half a foot of newspaper with a watch cap pulled down to his eyes. The candy I bought is piled high on the steps to the porch. The children walking by take one look at him and hide behind their parents. The parents snatch some candy and race march on. The damndanes are lined up on the couch. They face the front window. Skype watches intently and gives out a serious dane growl at the bolder approaching child-beggars. Mickey hogs the chair and lends his tenor to the sound event here indoors. Grover stands, one ear sticking up and grins at the passing show. Winnie regards them all with pride.
I face the computer. Slobber covered, half deafened, tormented by the man who keeps loping back into house stirring up the four damndogs I grimly record another night of the woman at home.
Did I mention that a mouse attacked me last night?
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