They left the sheathed carcasses out on the sidewalk, limbs pressing against the clouded plastic, suggesting that death had not completely set in. Nobody seemed to mind. They walked around the bags as if nothing was amiss. How they got there, nobody knew for sure. But this was not an isolated incident. One nearly had to glance down the street to find other former loved ones baking in the sun. And they remained there for weeks. Like everyone, I cringed with disgust as I observed the various stages of decomposition. And each time I passed by these bags of death, the same thought came to mind: “Doesn’t anyone know how to recycle their damn Christmas trees?” Happy New Year, you lazy, selfish pukes.
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