A ******/suicide my sister tells me.
She always knows things first.
I'm six, she's eight.

I look across the street where the
Bungalows sit. Huddled. Secretive.
Police and emergency vehicles swarm.

One vehicle has the word CORONER.
I don't know what that means.

My earliest memory of the existence
of Death is when I was crossing a
vacant lot...

(don't go near the Rosenthal's... their
son is mentally unstable and
he might hurt you...)

... I found a dog skeleton. It's bones
scattered and bleached by the sun.
A green bier of grass had grown
up around it. A small dog, its
ribs look like chicken bones...

It frightened me so badly I had
nightmares for weeks.

I started to become afraid of death.
My father laughed. He assured
me I had a long time to go
On ol' planet earth...

This knowledge didn't seem to help.

Drama on the news that night.
Jealous boyfriend kills girlfriend/self.
My parents wouldn't let us watch, but
we already knew...

Just like we knew Santa wasn't real,
'cause I snuck down the hall on Xmas eve
and surprised my parents putting presents
under the tree...

... hollow 'clink' of a
bulb rolling across the floor...


S~S