Death and Taxes

about how Cheryl, his ex-wife, had changed his life. “I thought I had nothing else to live for, Ma. Then I met her a couple of years after the war. We got married, Ma, too fast. I wanted to hurry up. I felt I was losing control. She didn’t protest. She put up with me for ten good years. But I gave her hell. She couldn’t take it anymore. Derick was born a couple of months after we married. Then, a few years later, Shannon came. I couldn’t handle it no more, Ma.” Sonny talked more about how his drinking started after Shannon was born. Every day he drank. He began to beat on his wife. He didn’t know how to talk about his frustrations, his pain about the war, his inferiority complex from not being a good father. He had to drink. Like right now. He wanted it; he could taste it. He grew quiet. He didn’t talk any further. Pearlie Mae got up and went to the window. She closed the curtains. And then turned out the light. She told her son everything was gonna be alright now. The Good Lord was speaking to him. “You’re gonna be alright, now, Sonny. It gonna take time.” She kissed him on the forehead as he lay there quietly, sleeping. As she closed the door behind her, she thanked God for bringing her son home, finally bringing him home.

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Isaac Pinnell

They say there are only two things guaranteed in life— death and taxes. But no one told me the first could precede the second and the tax would be the guilt that I was not there.

On the night ofApril 15, 2017,

Bryan finished his food and insisted to me, “Lemme go out and buy you something to eat.”

I was thinking to myself, Why would he do this for me? I was the one skipping classes just so I could watch TV, while he was working two jobs just so his family could breathe, so I was prepared to say “no” as he looked at me.

I saw his crystal cobalt-blue eyes blend into the broad smile above his chin, around his rippled red hair and silky skin. Bryan was always my nearest friend.

I didn’t even think he had enough to pay, but I grabbed the remote and said, “okay.”

I would be lazy for just this one last day.

Bryan took off and swiftly arrived at the place only to realize he was going to be a dollar short for my order. He paced out the doors and jogged toward the gas station a few blocks up the street to use the ATM machine. About halfway there he stopped to catch his breath. Then the bullets. The first one zoomed past his ear forcing Bryan to become an Olympic sprinter diver long jumper hurdler all at once as the bullets whipped the air harder and harder and harder still Bryan’s last frantic

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