Strewn about, like random shells after high tide lay the remnants of Christmas trees, dribbled with faded tinsel; hugging the curbs waiting for the onslaught of sanitation trucks to whisk them away to become the mulch of Christmas past. Cast out, with nary a thought were those evergreen boughs as they hung lazily over the curb. Clean it up, gifts away, wrapping paper be gone! Christmas is over! A chilly wind blew through the streets as I traversed the…
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