February 2009
25 posts
“Roses are red, violets are blue,” began the poem Jeff wrote to mock the color-blind preschoolers.
January 2009
5 posts
As we drove away from the sunset, we finally realized we needed a compass.
Santa was never the same after his rosy cheeks turned out to be skin cancer.
Every rainbow was an omen of hope for Dorothy, who didn’t understand optics.
As we all sat around the glowing embers, we hugged, held hands, and wondered what Jeff’s last thoughts were before we immolated him.