Floating City, Home, Thursday, 8pm
The guy’s phone rings. A good friend wants to know what he’s doing for Thanksgiving. That’s nice. He indicates his gratitude.
“Well, that’s the thing,” says the caller. “Are you thinking about having Thanksgiving at your house? By any chance? Because we got invited by family but we didn’t want to spend Thanksgiving with them this year, so I panicked and said we were going to your place. And now I feel bad. I don’t want to lie to my family. You know? It’s Thanksgiving.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “So you are calling to invite me to have Thanksgiving at my own house this year. And to invite me to invite you guys.”
“Sorry,” says the friend. “You totally don’t have to.”
In the end, he says yes. What the hell. It’s Thanksgiving.






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