The Morning After My Son’s Funeral An Airport Worker Called About The Bag He Left Behind

He was careful. He did not smoke. He ran three miles every Thursday. He took the stairs instead of elevators. At forty-one, a man like that is not supposed to simply stop existing over a quiet breakfast in March. Not unless something about the story is missing.

I need to tell you about Tara before I tell you what happened after the funeral.

David met continue reading …