The Miller Report 12242024
Welcome everyone! Christmas 2024!! 🌲️
Nyx is currently auditioning for the role of “Cat Ninja,” and he’s doing a splendid job of knocking over anything in his path. Willow has already claimed your lap as her royal throne, and there’s no negotiating with a cat on a mission! Shadow is lurking nearby, trying to look stealthy, but let’s face it—he’s more likely to get distracted by a dust bunny.
If you’re feeling lucky, check your tickets for today’s Lotto Pick: 5, 14, 20, 29, 36, and 44 —here’s hoping they lead you to victory! Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the delightful chaos!
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• Across my Desk
Living in a 15 minute city would be a simple life.
Richard Vobes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cr53uWmAlEE
re: Why everyone stopped reading.
Shelly Swearingen
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmGv1DB2TqU
12 Days of Redneck Christmas
Digital Ditties & Jokes
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jAV-hmckkzQ
• The Reader
On a bustling weekday afternoon, Michele found a quiet corner in her local café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding her. She ordered a caramel macchiato, its sweet scent inviting her to take a sip. Sitting at a small table, she opened her laptop to the Mindmyst Tales Blog, a notebook and pencil ready for her reflections. A slice of carrot cake sat on the plate in front of her, its rich flavor a delightful treat. As she immersed herself in the stories, the café buzz faded away, leaving only her and the enchanting narratives.
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• Game of the Week --- your chance to win a prize ...
The Football Field Area
A high-tech football field is designed as a rectangle that is 100 yards long and 53.3 yards wide. What is the area of the football field in square yards, and how many square feet is that? (Note: 1 yard = 3 feet)
• Now, This Week's Exciting Story.
The Sweater of Shadows
by Joe Miller
Paige Turner sat alone in her dimly lit living room, the flickering light of a single lamp casting long shadows that danced across the walls. Outside, the wind howled like a banshee, rattling the windows and echoing the emptiness she felt deep within her heart. The holidays were a time for joy, laughter, and togetherness, but for Paige, they were a reminder of her solitude. Friends had drifted away, family gatherings had become a distant memory, and the cheerful festivities felt like a cruel joke.
As she curled up on the worn couch, wrapped in a thin blanket, the doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence. Startled, Paige hesitated for a moment before reluctantly rising to answer it. When she opened the door, she found a small, unmarked package on the welcome mat. The box was plain, wrapped in brown paper, and tied with a fraying string. Confusion washed over her—who could possibly be sending her a gift?
Cautiously, she brought the package inside and set it on the coffee table. She stared at it for a moment, her heart racing with excitement and dread. Finally, she tore off the wrapping, revealing an ugly Christmas sweater. Its garish colors clashed violently—bright reds and greens adorned with dancing reindeer and snowflakes that seemed to mock her. But as she held it up, a wave of familiarity washed over her, sending a chill down her spine.
It was the same sweater her late grandmother used to wear every holiday season, the one she had always found hideous yet strangely endearing. The memories flooded back—warm hugs, laughter, and the scent of freshly baked cookies that filled her grandmother’s home.
She remembered crisp autumn air filled with the scent of damp leaves and pine as young Paige stood beside her grandmother, the cool metal of the rifle resting comfortably in her small hands. The rhythmic sound of their breaths mingled with the distant rustle of the wind, creating a symphony of nature that enveloped them both. With her grandmother’s gentle guidance, Paige focused her gaze down the barrel, the world narrowing to the target set against the backdrop of vibrant fall colors.
She felt the reassuring warmth of her grandmother’s hand on her shoulder, grounding her as she steadied her aim, the weight of the rifle both intimidating and exhilarating. A sharp crack echoed through the trees as her grandmother fired first, the sound reverberating in Paige’s chest, followed by the satisfying thud of the bullet hitting its mark. The rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she pulled the trigger, the recoil sending a thrill of power through her entire being.
They laughed together, the sound ringing out like music, each shot bringing them closer, weaving a tapestry of shared memories in the cool afternoon light. As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting an amber glow over the backyard, Paige cherished the warmth of her grandmother’s presence, a safe harbor in the whirlwind of her youth. With each shot, they carved moments into the fabric of their lives, a bonding ritual that would forever echo in the chambers of her heart.
But that warmth quickly dissipated as a sense of dread settled in. Why would someone send her this sweater now, and how did they know it held such significance?
Paige tossed the sweater onto the couch, a knot forming in her stomach. She tried to shake off the unease that clung to her, but the sweater seemed to pulse with a life of its own, calling to her. The evening wore on, and she found it impossible to focus on anything else. The sweater loomed in the corner of her eye, a grotesque reminder of happier times that felt like a cruel taunt.
Finally, unable to resist, Paige picked up the sweater again. She turned it over in her hands, examining the intricate stitching that formed her grandmother's initials—E.T. She felt a mix of nostalgia and revulsion. The memories of her grandmother enveloped her, but they were overshadowed by the loneliness that consumed her now.
As she slipped the sweater over her head, she felt an odd chill envelop her, as if the fabric had a weight that pressed down on her shoulders. The moment it settled against her skin, she felt a surge of emotions flood through her—sadness, longing, despair. It was as if the sweater had absorbed all the grief she had buried deep within her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the memories came rushing back, the echoes of laughter mingling with the silence of her empty home.
The lights flickered, plunging her into darkness. The air grew cold, and Paige felt a presence in the room. She turned, heart pounding, but saw nothing. The sweater felt tighter, constricting her as if it were alive, wrapping around her like a vice. Panic set in, and she ripped it off, tossing it across the room.
But the moment the sweater hit the floor, she heard a soft whisper, a voice she recognized all too well. “Paige, my dear, don’t be sad. I’m always with you.” It was her grandmother’s voice, gentle yet haunting. The room spun, and Paige staggered back, her breath quickening as shadows danced along the walls.
“Stop it!” she screamed, clutching her head as memories assaulted her—her grandmother’s laughter, her warm hugs, the way she had always made everything feel okay. But now, it felt like a cruel joke, a reminder of everything Paige had lost.
She stumbled to the door, desperate to escape the suffocating presence that filled her home. But as she reached for the doorknob, she felt a cold grip on her wrist. It was the sweater, crawling towards her like a living thing, its fabric writhing and twisting.
“No!” Paige cried, yanking her arm away, but the sweater continued its relentless pursuit, whispering her name. “Paige, don’t you want to feel my love again? Don’t you miss me?”
Tears streamed down her face as she backed away, her heart racing. The shadows grew thicker, and the room felt smaller, closing in on her. “I don’t want this!” she screamed, her voice echoing in the suffocating darkness.
But the sweater persisted, wrapping around her ankles, pulling her down. “You’re never alone, my dear. I’ll always be here, holding you tight.”
At that moment, Paige felt the weight of her loneliness and despair crashing down on her. The memories, once comforting, turned into a prison of her past. She fell to the floor, the sweater coiling around her like a serpent, and she realized she was trapped—not just by the fabric but by the grief that had consumed her.
As the shadows closed in, Paige understood the loathsome truth: the gift of the ugly sweater was not a gesture of love but a reminder of her isolation, a haunting echo of a life that had slipped away. And as the darkness enveloped her, she became just another whisper in the night, forever bound to the memories of what once was, her heart heavy with the weight of sorrow and regret.
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The Quest for Survival: Embark on a perilous journey for survival as we delve into the terrifying realm of UFO phenomena. With heart-stopping accounts and expert analysis, we dare you to confront the nightmarish truth that awaits in our unsettling book.
Joseph Miller's "SHADOW" is a thrilling rollercoaster of UFO encounters and government intrigue. Real stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Don't miss out! Available on Amazon Kindle, paperback, hardcover, and Audible. 🚀
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B4Z36PS3
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A Treasure Hunt of Romance and Suspense – After Dark takes you on a thrilling ride through mysteries and hidden treasures. From a pirate's journal to an emerald that holds a deadly secret, Detective Jack Dark and Emily Harper’s journey is as captivating as their growing romance.
Available in Kindle, Paperback and Hardcover
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CTHPSSTQ
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Please visit by my author's page to see what's new.
https://warlockpublishing.com/joseph-miller-author/joseph-miller
--------------- sponsor
KelDel Creations
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100090364412851
Experience the joy of handmade crafts at KelDel Creations! Our selection includes everything from cute key chains to whimsical magnets that add a touch of fun to your everyday life. Each item is crafted with passion and creativity, making them perfect for gifts or personal enjoyment. We invite you to explore our booth and discover the joy of supporting local artisans. Visit us at the craft fair or consignment shop and take home a piece of happiness!
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Thank you for overcoming the cold, icy roads to join us today; your presence brought light and warmth to our gathering. The aroma of hot black coffee filled the air, inviting us to relax and enjoy the moment together. Eggnog was the perfect festive touch, reminding us of the joy that this season brings. After a long day of shopping, it was wonderful to sit back, unwind, and share laughter with such dear friends. The cheerful melodies of "Jingle Bells" created a joyful atmosphere that will linger in our hearts. And as we savored hot soup, each spoonful warmed us from the inside out. May you return home to the comforting embrace of your snuggling cats, knowing that our time together was truly special.
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Please do write a comment. You could, if you dare, ask me a question... Play Stump The Host!
Until next Thursday, New Year's Day
Happy DECEMBER!!!,
Joe Miller
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