Read Cook
We’d filled our home with unmournable little ghosts. They float in the kitchen and the hallways and the spare room with the chandelier that has no light bulbs. During the day they entertain each other, but at night they bed down in our minds and convulse like wounded hatchlings.
Guests pretend not to notice them.
Out of desperation, we joined hands and petitioned God to intervene, but He was busy watching the game. When it all became too much, we marched our darlings down to the coast, intent on drowning them in whatever tide was available. But they frolicked in the waves and built castles in the sand, happy as could be. As were we.
When night fell, we gathered them into our arms and sat around the fire, silently forgiving ourselves. And as we packed up to head home, we agreed that we should do this more often.
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Read Cook’s writing has recently appeared in EPOCH, Wigleaf, The Moth, and the University of Illinois Law Review. His frighteningly prescient short story, “Hope v. Texas,” earned both praise from legal scholars and death wishes from lunatics. His work can be found at byreadcook.com.