SAD PATTERNS PRESENTS:
This post originally appeared on January 29, 2013
(This is one of my personal favorites on this blog)
There, before the onlookers and the festivities of the lone Christmas tree, the top Santa-quilt held out his smoking revolver to enact the execution so ordered by the state. His willingness and nonexistent smirk suggested a twisted pleasure in reaping the lives of the innocent as the cold December wind blew away the aromatic gunpowder leaking from the barrel of his Colt 45.
The three Santas, lined up against an unforgiving beige wall on the bottom quilt, were resigned to their fates and closed their eyes in anticipation of death’s frigid embrace. More than one lump of coal would be dealt into the ragged stocking of life that day as the top Santa readied his shot.