During Robert’s Funeral, My Sons Stood By The Casket With Dry Eyes And Perfect Black Suits…

soaked in the pouring rain.

Harrison was right behind him, shouting something I could no longer hear.

William, the driver, took the turns without turning on the headlights until we reached the main road. His weathered hands gripped the steering wheel with a firmness I had never seen in him before.

“William,” I barely managed to say. “Tell me if I’m losing continue reading …