Turtles and Bryl-cream

Thomas returned the turtle to its tank and sat back down.  The turtle of current discussion was named Carl and had a habit of biting Thomas' left hand ring finger at any opportunity.  Thomas, as was the habit as of late, applied Neosporin to his finger and muttered to himself.  His mother had called while he was playing with Carl and left a rather vitriolic message on his voice mail.  Something about "those damned deer and her vegetable garden."  Thomas had advised her directly not to put that turnip garden in the back yard.  Living in the woods provides too much exposure to wildlife, he told her.  The raccoons and her garbage cans were bad enough, but now that the deer were eating her turnips, she had reached her limit.  She was talking about buying a gun.

Thomas put his clothes back on and walked out to the mailbox at the edge of the sidewalk.  Normally, the houses on his street positioned the mailboxes on the side of their homes, near the front door, but Thomas didn't like a stranger approaching his front door so often.  In fact, Thomas didn't like strangers at all, or really anyone for that matter.  His present dislike for humanity could probably be attributed to the large quantities of turnips consumed by his mother during his prenatal days, but Thomas couldn't prove it.  He had every intention of writing a thesis on this very topic as soon as he had some extra time.

Opening his mailbox, Thomas extracted exactly four pieces of junk, bulk mailers, a letter from his high school reunion organizing committee and a small manila envelope containing what he hoped would set the rest of his day at ease.  Dropping all but the manila envelope on the dining room table, Thomas sat down and proceeded to open the envelope.  He gently removed the glossy covered magazine from its drab, tan straight jacket and slid his hand over the cover.  A shudder fluttered down his spine and he thoroughly enjoyed the cover.  It was his newest issue of Farmer's Weekly and Thomas was hooked.  He spent the rest of the afternoon devouring its contents.

After a dinner of turtle soup, Thomas went to bed.