An excerpt from my short story, “Stories and Songs about my Brother, Death”.
“The memory juts out like a spike and I drop my bag. This disturbs no one but me. I leave my bag on the floor and go to the restroom. I cry sloppily in a stall, muffling the sobs when I hear the door open. I press my eyes shut and I feel as if I will scream. Then I hear footsteps move back toward the door and leave. No scream comes, but the tears flow and my body becomes a river. The sun heats the surface of my skin and beneath it where I kept all of, whatever I have for Osiris, melts and becomes deluge. The flow goes on forever, the waters rising to the riverbanks, but ultimately receding again.
I sit there, numb and drying.”