Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
Don’t call.
Don’t come by.
Don’t send anything.”
He walked out and pulled the door closed.
The latch caught.
His engine started in the driveway, then faded off down the street.
I stood at the window with the white box in one hand.
In the other I held the paper savings bond certificate I had pulled from my sideboard drawer an hour before he showed up.
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