Christmas Cookie Conviction

The corpse sat upright on the sofa, his feet on the floor. If his head hadn’t sunk into his chest, he could have entertained guests. Maybe he had. A red, white, and green flannel shirt topped his tan cords. He looked middle-aged. A red Santa hat, its tip accentuated by a white pompom, covered his head. He didn’t look merry. Signs of gastric distress were apparent on the carpet at his feet. The outstretched fingers of his right hand covered his stomach.