hold on, cookie! unfurl…

When Seamus watched the flag unfurl for the final time, his heart lurched with what he presumed was nostalgia but was perhaps just that last bite of bruschetta on a sourdough toast tip that Marge had procured from the depths of her stainless steel fridge.

The red and green monstrosity (flag, not bruschetta) snapped to attention once like a valiant soldier who knows his last tour will be fraught with peril but serves anyway because that’s what his country had brainwashed him to do. Seamus riffled...