Lonely bag of expensive sticks.


Now, it doesn’t happen all that often, but at least a few times each year, the Widow-Maker has to go out of town on business. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, there’s an “executive meeting” involved that requires him to bring his expensive bag of sticks. So of course, they come along with him.

I, on the other hand, have never been able to come with him. But I digress…

My point today is that the Widow-Maker is away on a business trip, which means that his expensive bag of sticks are left alone… downstairs… unguarded.

I couldn’t help myself, I had to go downstairs just to see why that bag was so prized. I flung open the garage door and I swear to God, I heard the sticks shaking. I think I scared it. I don’t know what all the fuss is about, really. It’s a nice bag though, I could get alot in that bag if I were traveling somewhere.

So I left the expensive bag of sticks alone and went back into the house. They didn’t do much for me. Then an hour later, I went past the front hallway and I almost fell over. The expensive bag of sticks had freed themselves from their bed in the garage and were waiting obediently by the front door, like a faithful dog waiting for it’s owner to come home. That was just too spooky, so I left them there, and until the Widow-Maker returns from his travels…

… I’ll be using the back door!