Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
It sat there like a bad tooth.
“If he needed money that badly, why would he be buying a casket?”
Arthur didn’t answer right away.
“That’s exactly what I’d like to know.” He put his glasses back on.
At eight that night headlights swept across my living room wall.
I recognized the sound of Julian’s engine before I saw him.
He didn’t knock.
He pounded with the flat of his hand.
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