Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
The house smelled of lilies and hot dust.
No answer.
Upstairs, a drawer slid shut.
I stepped inside.
Bunny’s ear dragged along my coat.
The living room lamp was on, the brass one beside the sofa.
That was when I saw the box.
It sat in the center of the rug, polished mahogany, open.
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