Day Three (Again) of the Rest of America

I hear laughter. The sound of running feet, or skipping, like children. I don’t see them until they’re almost to my front door, which is incredible because they’re moving and nothing else is moving. They’re moving quickly. They’re covered with blood. They’re laughing.

Hi! They yell up Hi! Isn’t everything so fun! Don’t you just want to come out and play!?

I do not want to do that.

Why did I yell?

Do I want to die? I don’t. I know I don’t.

I know, suddenly, looking at them, Henry is not coming back. He always liked kids so much.

He would smile at them in grocery stores, he would chat to them in waiting rooms. He wanted to move upstate, closer to his sister, so he could spend more time with his nieces.

I hadn’t wanted that.

I wish more than ever that I had a gun. That I were in a car. That I were driving away.

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