Happy Thanksgiving

The weekend began with a longing.
A man walked down the street as I stared out the peeping hole on my door. An orange wooden door, which I am very keen of.

*ding*
The oven is calling.

I cooked for you. For your admiration and adorement.

I peeped.

Still no you.

Minutes passed.

I peeped again. You came running from the corner. I opened the door.

"Hi there, neighbor. Mmm..smells good! You cooked?"

I nodded, smiled.

"Well, Happy Thanksgiving! I gotta run along now. My wife is waiting for me."

I nodded again.

...

Someday I'm gonna kill your wife.