The House Collective

just like popcorn.

The plague is out tonight, and we are holed up in our bedroom with night-vision headlamps–well, and the computer, on the lowest screen setting.

And our neighbors? They have asked us to turn our outside lights on. They’d like to collect the bugs and fry them up with oil and salt.

Supposedly they taste just like popcorn.

Isn’t it ironic?

We have electricity, and yet it is nearly all off to avoid the plague. They have no electricity, and would like to borrow ours for a snack.

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