Turkeys

I've written two stories now. Both end in death. There's a very simple reason for this: It's an easy way to end a story. I'm not much of a fiction writer, so it's simply a crutch. Seems like a more creative alternative to "and they all lived happily ever after." Besides, man falling from an elevator surely wouldn't end happily ever after, in any case. There's no need for alarm. If I said "it's fun to kill characters," perhaps there'd be some cause for concern. So I'll just keep that to myself.

Also, a seasonal thought: I'm glad I have family in town. I'm glad the family from out of town came to see us. I'm glad turkeys are made of meat.