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Weekly Contest #44
Jake had worn all black, the day it rained. He and his father stood beside the casket, lips and palms worn and chapped from all the thank yous and the handshakes of solidarity. Marry-Anne Frank lay in cushions of white-pearl surrounded by polished oak. She had picked the coffin herself, bargaining the funeral home down to the lowest price. Dying shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg, she had told Jake as he tried to pry her off the salesman. She then spent the next half-hour crying from laughing at her own joke while Jake and the store owner ...
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