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Writer's picturechau nguyen

Time to kill some Michael Myers ho ho hos Christmas shirt

It rained the first Time to kill some Michael Myers ho ho hos Christmas shirt. three days I was in Puerto Vallarta, and the forecast predicted there’d be a crazy storm coming at the end of the week. The crew thought we should forget about the shoot, get out while we could. But the photographer said that we could shoot between rainy intervals. Possibly in shock. Or old. I knelt beside it. No, it was blind. I let the dog smell one of my hands and placed the other on its head. Suddenly the dog turned its head and barked in the opposite direction. A bus stopped near the hotel, exhaled, then heaved forward. In the dusty aftermath of the bus, Hudson appeared, walking toward me, knapsack slung over one shoulder. Even at a distance and through the dust, I could see his eyes and his cheekbones, both of which seemed disproportionately large for his face. He was thinner. He looked at his phone, upward at the hotel, back at his phone. He adjusted his knapsack. Then he saw me near the side of the road with the dog. He didn’t say anything—even when he was close enough to speak. He just turned his palms upward. Meaning, What are you doing out here? Meaning, Do you want me? Meaning, Is this enough for you? Beneath me, the dog was scraping its leg with its teeth. Making things worse. Hudson approached. My phone vibrated like an alarm.



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