As the MiserBunch stood outside the Union Bar and Grill monday night, a bitter wind whipped through them. Perhaps it was revenge, for more than once that night a misery had been written in regards to the cruelness of the wind. Perhaps there were other cosmic forces at work. We can't know these things. All we know is that the miseries were all but gone. The wind had taken the delicate napkin confessions and strewn them throughout the town. All that remains are these two lonely miseries. Next week, they will be guarded more carefully.


Also...
Last week we received our first misery in the mail... Keep 'em coming.