Christmas Short Story: Midnight Clear

Christmas Short Story: Midnight Clear

Across the street from St. George’s, the ragged man was thinking:  It’s a cold one! I should go in. But the shelter bathrooms are busted, ‘cause they broke in and stole all the copper, and I reek. No fine ladies with boxes of food on 38th  . . . not on Christmas Eve on a Friday! Hungry, God! Better walk all night.

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