Howie, our Big RedHis eyes glaze plainly at the world at large, but within his Heart there is something more complex than words may utter.
Cackling, it was like the fire laughed at him. It spit sparks, the embers of fireworks, showering the enclave, bursting through the screen. Beneath the grate, coals shone a neon furry. The fire was hot. It blazed a furnace heat, and yet he lay so near, soaking in the waves like sand. His thick red coat glowed under the orange flickers. I waited for him to smolder in ash, but stubbornly he refused, and turned his heavy head to rest upon the hearth. And there he watched with keen interest, eyebrows dancing with each pull of the cork; champagne frothing with
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