January 28, 2017

“I was afraid of the parts of the man that were stuck between the floorboards, that wafted about the house like furred weeds, that balled up in the closet corners, that caught beneath the doors. There were so many little bits of him scattered around the house. I collected the pieces in old grocery bags, stuffing the plastic fat, then knotting the bags shut. The bags became pillows made of the man. I rested my head upon them. I hugged them and it was like hugging the man, but softer and with a more crinkly sound…”

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