By Dante A Murray
My mother is taking her turn at dying in an upstairs bedroom that one stranger and six family members have previously died in. Screaming, she is heading for a white light.
Everyone rushes upstairs.
Uncle Sal breaks his hip when someone, who is jockeying for position, pushes him over the banister.
Mother opens her eyes and asks for wine in the 8oz Mason jar she drank Riesling from, when we were children. Then, the house is still again.
On the day she is buried, we acknowledge each other with nods as if, in this ordeal, we had all developed paranormal abilities.
A bit of paranormal humor; a refreshing story, Dante.
Different. I like it.
yes, very true. At family funerals,the paranormal sets in , with nods and no words.
great discription Dante—very niceley written about a sad time
Super quirky! I thoroughly enjoyed the mason jar and Uncle Sal’s broken hip. These had to have come from somewhere. Fun and thoughtful.
Thank you
Love it! Cliches and platitudes nuked out of existence in this one. Wonderful glance at how death is a part of life.
Love the details and “gallows humor” 😉
Love the feedback