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Weekly Contest #264
Hard ragged nails snagged on my silk. Someone grabbed at my elbow. It was his son. He asked, expected me to speak at the service. I could barely manage a smile and a sad embrace. There’s nothing left to say. All the words in the world have been used up. Wrung out. Tossed away. Every old lie exhausted. Every lyric, love song, psalm and sermon spent. The last time I saw him he was already dead if only in spirit. Twice divorced but still quite impeccably dressed. Seeing him lying there now, perhaps I had even purchased that tie. Yes it was de...
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