Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
A wet oak leaf clung to the bottom step.
I went back up the walk with Bunny under my arm.
The grass was slippery.
I told myself I would hang him on the doorknob and go.
The front door wasn’t latched.
A thin strip of hall light lay across the threshold.
I pushed it with two fingers, and it swung inward.
“Julian?” I called out.