If your dad died on a mountain in Switzerland, blowing an alpine horn, if his anterior cerebral artery ruptured, and your mom told you his final breath flew “joyfully” through the hills, past deer, past goats, beyond trees; if you knew she said that only because you told her three times he was too old to go on that trip
By the fourth day, Claire was no longer surprised when she went to the freezer for ice and found herself face-to-face with six dead gerbils. It was her daughter’s love that had killed them. Emily, all of six years old, had brought them a toxic bouquet of flowers hand-picked from the neighbor’s garden.
I was in third grade the year they legalized guns in school. It happened during spring vacation and Mom took me to Staples for school supplies. She said I could get the small pistol with the little blue daisies on it if I promised, promised, to load the dishwasher every day after dinner instead of just when I got reminded.
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