How To Even…Thanksgiving 2020

By Michael Gushue & CL Bledsoe

You wake up from your glutinous post-Thanksgiving haze to find Mamaw’s house deserted. You call and call, but no one answers. In the dining room, where once a great feast was laid out, now, there are strange red splotches — they almost look like slime trails. Or maybe they’re blood trails. You’re kind of freaking out. You try your cell, but there’s no service.