THE NEW SMOKER

to see. Like a perfect celestial burrito. hen I awoke the W next morning, bits of “convenience sandwich”

was strewn throughout the floor and I still felt residuals from last night’s ill administered brownie. It was 8am, the song of the Eastern Bluebird reminded me of this. I put on some shoes and went outside to fix my sprinkler system. This was either an act of contrition or an opening salvo in edible proofing my house. I am still not sure.

13