My dad called it the “Midnight Paper.” It was exactly what it sounded like: a strange kind of newspaper that would show up at some homes at midnight. On the dot. Every Wednesday and Friday for us, but on other nights for other houses.
I loved hearing about it. We’d sit at his office, late at night, late for me, at that age. But that’s all I did. Hear about it. I never saw one, even though my dad said he had many copies. He never told me any of the stories that were supposedly printed on it. So after a while, I lost interest. Grew out of it. Until now.