Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document

“Until you switch it off,” Duane said.

She looked up at me.

“I’m not going to switch it off.”

“Could she see it lit first?” I asked.

Duane plugged the acorn into a power strip next to the register.

The tiny bulb inside glowed warm and dim, hardly brighter than a candle.

Chloe brought her face up close to it.

“It looks like a little pear.”