T'was the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The quiet at home was blissful and calm. The quiet in Gaza was a deathly alarm.

It followed a bang in a home race to the ground through the

rubble he dug until she was found. For hours she fought. She tried to be brave, but

without the right care she couldn't be saved. She takes her last breath,

her mom by her side. Her dad holds her hand as they bid her goodbye.

For children in Gaza, every minute is a battle of survival.

Please visit UNICEF.i to donate today and help save a child's life.

Thank you. It was a Tuesday that still stank like yesterday's Monday.

I'd just closed down the office and was ready to open up a bottle of working man's vacation,

when a mysterious dame knocked on my door.

She was staring at me through a pain of broken glass that used to read Sam Sharimi, very private eye.

Her eyes were red like she'd either been making out with a mothman or crying.

My old man, Bishar, is back in town. He's on probation for cetation for an occasion.

I love this story, though. Keep singing.

I need you to hide me from him.

Sorry baby, but I specialize in the unexplained and your stories about as exciting as a packet of Sweden

law. You men are all the same. You act like you want to hear my story, but all you want to do is debunk me. She said pulling a gun on me

I took a swing of old Crowley's liquid robe remover. You think I'm scared of a little lead spitter like that?

Sister, you must not have heard about the Shadow People. Don't get done.

Oh, terror.

Terror and drama!

...