I staggered through the dark, nearly naked, to my door. Saw nothing out the peephole, foolishly just opened it.

Waiting for me was a small, poorly-wrapped gift package. The kind of wrap job you do for your mom’s present on Christmas when you are seven years-old.

I collected the gift and retreated to the warmth of the space heaters inside my apartment.

I tore at the green and red wrapping paper as fast as I could and was soon looking at a little note scribbled in sloppy handwriting which also looked like it could have belonged to a second grader, and a DVD.

“Mark –
Hoping things are good on the Frontier and at home. Sorry I missed Christmas yet again, but I thought this might make up for it.
Love,
Grandpa George”

I pushed away the note and laid eyes upon a DVD I would immediately pop into DVD player – a fresh copy of Tombstone.