The Gravesite
There’s the tree. Right where your husband’s casket needs to be. But you see solid ground. A hole dug ten feet over. You grab hold of the steering wheel. Take a sharp left. Tires spill over the curb. You bang the hell out of the brakes. “I’ll be damned,” you say. Seymour’s grave isn’t where it’s supposed to be with his… Read more →