The Keepsake (cont’d.) July 25, 2014 I hug my brother at the funeral home. He says he has something to give me. Later. August 2014 The days run down my cheeks, a blur, but I refuse to check the calendar, my memento mori. I saw my brother today. He was with Dad when he passed. He had a keepsake for me. When I held out my hand, he pressed something into it. It was Dad’s last heartbeat.
Bullet Quarterly College of William and Mary Wednesday, October 15, 2014
(Part 2 of 2)