Something Like Mercy

The box is richly padded and, for one who won’t be stirring, roomy. I should have lived as comfortably, in darkness as conducive to long remembering. This is no way to begin. I am paper and bone in a box under earth as blunt as a clod. My words should be simple as sand.

Quick Recovery

During the funeral in his old hometown he didn’t give it a thought but when he needed a ride to the airport and couldn’t think who to ask he discovered he was in all the world alone in that particular way,

Decorum

All I wanted when he died was to scream. My family restrained me, taking me by the arms near the shoulders, and either slamming me to the wall of the trauma room or forcing my nose into the stink, as if I were responsible,