was all he could think of. So he made a little pillow by bunching up some of the mulch and laid his head upon it. The chopped wood bit into his skin and hurt really bad, scraped against his ear and stung his cheek, but soon he would be asleep and it wouldn’t hurt anymore. He closed his eyes and sunk like a lead weight into the ground. He never wanted to sleep so bad in his whole life. So he closed his eyes. He thought he heard somebody talking to him but it must have been a dream, he was so sleepy. The voice said, “Hey there, little fella… you okay?”
The Pratt House, Washington Street, 12:09am... isa Pratt dabbed softly at her nose with the Kleenex and sniffed back a tear. It was just like her husband, always the drama queen, to die the day before Christmas. All day her spacious home had been full of friends, family and well-wishers, all of whom meant well, but all Lisa wanted was for them to leave her alone. Tom was the friendly one, the gregarious one, the
She sighed and stared at the halfempty bottle of Glenlivet on the table. In the end that’s what got him. His relatively cleanlylived recent years not enough to overcome his utterly voracious past.
one everybody loved; she was the one they tolerated because they loved him so much, always the party-pooper, the ball-breaker, the nagging wife dragging him home at a reasonable hour after a reasonable number of drinks. And Tom played it to the hilt, always going on about the ol’ ball and chain. But without fail, he’d always thanked her for doing it. He always said if he hadn’t met her he’d have been dead by 30 with his hardpartying ways, that he loved the stabilizing influence she’d had on him and how she’d help turn him into an adult. She just wished he’d said it in front of his goddamn friends every once in a while. But that wouldn’t be an issue now. Tom was gone and she wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore. But, she thought with a little pang of guilt, they were at least nice enough to stop by and pretend they cared about her. That was something, at least. She made a mental note to reach out tomorrow, Christmas, maybe drop off a few nice bottles from Tom’s extensive collection of wines and fine liquors. It would be a nice gesture and get the stuff out of the house, since she never touched it. Until tonight. She
mystery date Relive the fond memories of playing this classic game from the 1960s
raised the sweaty glass of Scotch from the table, wiped it against her brow, enjoyed the coolness, took a deep swallow, and set it back down next to the bottle of Xanax she’s been partaking from generously all day. She sighed and stared at the halfempty bottle of Glenlivet on the table. In the end that’s what got him. His relatively cleanly-lived recent years not enough to overcome his voracious past. The thousands of drinks and thousands of cigarettes had left their mark, culminated in a massive heart attack at the company Christmas party. He was a big-time real estate agent — “Pratt Realty” adorned just about every for sale sign in Cape May, drawing equal parts ire and admiration from his colleagues. He was always hustling, always selling, even in this lousy economy. And his Christmas parties were legendary, open to every licensed realtor in town, open bar, gourmet catering, karaoke, the works. And every year he played Naughty Santa as the centerpiece, doling out generous gifts along with generous dirty jokes and doubleentendres. It was cheesy and, depend-
Have your old fur made into a beautiful teddy bear! A Gift from the Heart
OPEN EVERY DAY!
Mother Grimm’s Bears
of Cape May
(609) 886-1200 www.mothergrimmsbears.com
Wildly Imaginative Toys 510 Washington St. Mall, Cape May • (609) 884-0442
Everything you need to know about the holiday season in Cool Cape May.