My Son Made Plans For My House Until I Said One Thing

casual clerical cruelty of being scheduled for erasure, penciled in like a chore between the toast and the wine.

I did not cry. I did not call anyone names. I got up and made a pot of tea and let it steep the full four minutes.

Then I got up and took down the cedar box again. I lifted out the deed, the same single page I had held two nights before, but continue reading …