Time has fallen into silence.
I can still remember when it happened that early spring day; the way the light went out and my soul trembled. When life snatched away my bride and children. The day I lost my world. I trudged through the dark forest; the last rays of sunlight spilling in through the canopy of trees
Women in colorful, gay dresses. Men in Panama hats and suits. The sweet aroma of cigars. The heady odor of dirt and fresh white paint. The sights and sounds and scents of the Kentucky Derby assault my nostrils. Make my head spin. I tremble.
Jason pats my side, stroking his fingers through my mane.
Warmth does not come to the peaks as quickly as it does the valley. For though the mountains here remain frozen in winter’s grasp, the basin below my tomb has thawed, and in the valley, flowers bloom. From the summit I watch as thick snow melts and flows into rising streams that feed the invaders’ crops and cattle and greed.
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You wouldn’t forget the date of your dad’s death any more than you’d forget your own.
January 3, 1962. The worst day of my life. And only two months later, we’re going to Disneyland.
“Swell way to mourn,” I muttered.
Mom flinched like I’d punched her in the gut, but it was my kid sister Susie…
There are echoes in the valley, and they speak my name.
Emereth. Emereth.
Desperate and muffled like a man with his face in a pillow, using his last breath—for me. It is carried on a low, whistling wind that aches through tall cliffs on either side of this place. It rustles through wildflowers, collecting pollen and doubts.
After my daughter and her husband’s car accident, it was just Carter and me. Then, three years later to the day that I had buried his parents, I laid six-year-old Carter beside them.
Leukemia.
Most of the people at the funeral were my grandson’s friends. A few had tears running down their cheeks as they hugged their parents…
Icy wind combed through my hair, cutting my exposed skin like a razor. The beast roared beneath my thighs, the machine’s force reverberating my rib cage as it churned out a wave of snow in my wake. Inside my helmet, my heart pumped like a speaker. Cold air drove down my throat to bite
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“Hemorrhoids.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I buried my face in the menu. It wouldn’t be the first time my darling Joe had embarrassed me in an elegant restaurant like Tony’s. I’d just hoped our forty-ninth anniversary might be an exception.
“Hemorrhoids!” Joe announced. A few patrons side-eyed each other.
I lifted my face slightly and…
“An exciting opportunity lies ahead of you.”
Across the table, Hank folded the slip and threw it into the remains of his shrimp chow mien. “Well, if that refers to Betty Jo zonked out on the sofa again with an empty bottle of vodka”—he rolled his eyes— “I’m gonna pass. “
I haven’t slept in three days.
I don’t dare. My chin quivers. “God help me not to slip.”
The accursed journal lies on the floor where I flung it last night. It’s skillfully bound, with crackled leather and twisted knotwork burned into the cover. A cover that should remain forever closed.
The back of the cab was warm and smelled vaguely of cigarettes. Morgan held Shauna’s hand, tears falling quietly in the darkness on the drive home.
Only emptiness greeted him when he opened the apartment door. He shuffled inside, dimly aware of his wife slipping off her shoes and wandering to the bathroom.
I watch the sun rise through the mist, creating an early morning rainbow. The colors glow, and in my awe, I forget the mug I hold. The clatter shatters my reverie, and I blink at the shards on the concrete. I will sweep that up later. For now, I am lost in
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