It is pretty much dead around here. Say for the occasional straggler that photocopies a little of this or that we are alone. MF Dees and I are alone. Utterly. Alone.
I am starring at a poinsettia plant and seven green potted plants of various shapes and sizes. I have checked out three books and a movie. The movie being Little Women in VHS form. I will not say to whom this disaster was lent to, but it may or may not rhyme with Keredith Memp. I am just saying.
There is a Christmas tree in the reference room with a few shine balls of various colors hanging from its branches. I am almost finished with my senior sermon. I must say that I am pleased that I have invested a considerable amount of time on this endeavor. I sort of like what is coming of the exegetical work and preparation that seethes from the pages. I pray I may be a blessing on Friday. I just do not want to hurt anyone.
There is a display case in the biblioteca that asks the question, “What will you give birth to this Christmas?”
So I ask you this question. What will you give birth to this Christmas?
I just heard a noise upstairs. Was it a specter? I went over to investigate. I timidly approach. I call out, “Hello? Is anyone there?” I become fearful. I meekly move on toward the suspect noise. MF Dees has my back. I climb the stairs and call out again. MF Dees is up on the planter looking around.
“yes’ in a shallow voice. Is that someone I call out?
“Yes I am here.”
Thank God you are real and not a specter!
Just another night in the biblioteca.
I hate the strange nighttime noises that bump around here at night as we shut down. Man I am a chicken shit.