I recalled the text that had come last Thursday, “Did you hear the bad news?  He was killed.” Surely everyone who received the terrible news that night thought instantly of

When we met later at yet another common love (Starbucks), we’d talked and talked, spinning happiness through the mocha-scented air, and then she dropped it, casual like, right there in

“He’s gonna find out who’s naughty and nice.  Santa Claus is coming to town.” Ok.  I heard that sniff.  But here we are, 10 months from last Christmas.  That equals