I accidentally set Grace on fire; it took her a year to
forgive me. A lifetime when you’ve 7.
We were friends when I stole the money her Pa gave her for tithe.
Best friends when I undercooked the scrambled eggs.
Dating when she caught me kissing a zenlike hippie.
Married when I flash a haughty grin toward the passenger
seat. You won’t escape, Grace. Not
this time.
But, maybe I congratulate myself too early – I see her determined
glare as I slam the coffin closed.
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