The best part about Monday night is that it means Monday day is already behind you. I'm tucked into bed, laptop on lap, House Hunters on the television, cat kneading the blanket at my feet. It's about as cozy a scene as there ever was. It would be absolutely perfect if it weren't for that pesky feeling of impending doom.
Even though I can't hear them howling outside my door right at this moment, I know that the wolves will emerge sooner or later. Sure, tonight they may be wandering the streets of London looking for beef chow mein, but they'll alight on New York's Upper West Side sooner or later and I'm praying I'll have silver bullets handy.
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