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Pete Buttigieg and the Ghost of Christmas Future by Justin Karcher
I’m trying to vape in peace when Sam pops out of the Xmas tree like a jack-in-the-box. I don’t know how long he’s been hiding behind that ornamental veil. Or if any of this is even real. Nobody knows the side effects from vaping, but I’m cool with it. Sam plops down next to me like we’re old buddies. And we kindof are. But we’re also not old buddies, too. There’s a trail of tinsel glitter from the tree to the couch. As if Sam is shedding his skin. “Have you seen what it’s like out there?” he asks. I feel like I don’t have time for this. But since I’m bad at lying, Sam will see right through me. Either way, it’s futile.