The world, or more accurately the advent of the internet and the myriad of tablets, computers and televisions, had shifted many people from reading the newspaper, to searching online and finding out what the world was doing. Gary, when he was younger, liked reading the paper. He especially enjoyed the Sunday funnies. He hadn’t seen a paper in years, and yet, there laying in his driveway was the unmoving, rubber banded and folded morning edition. He found it odd and comforting at the same time. He looked down at his robe, tightened the belt slightly, and walked to the door. In his mind, he imagined himself being the television father in a 1950’s show. He just needed a pipe. He would walk out, pick up the paper and open it, looking at the headline. “Good morning, Mr. Winslow!” the neighbor boy would yell as he rode his bike past the house.
“Good morning, Tommy!” Gary would yell back.
Why was the boy always named Tommy?
In reality, Gary opened the door and walked quickly to grab the paper. He looked around, afraid to be seen by anyone, and hurried back to the front door.
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