Thursday, May 15, 2003
at 7:02 PMRose Madder
My mother would have turned forty-three today, but death effectively prevents one from aging. The Father bought a dozen cheap yellow roses, which Mr. Ed laid in front of the tombstone. Her tombstone sank forward a bit into the ground, to me apparently from the loss of soil to the crape myrtle growing directly behind it. Kailey sat in the bird poop on the bench. No one could summon enough emotion to be somber, so we threw the flowers down and left relatively quickly.
I must conduct research for the very last European history project. I am to portray Elizabeth I and Leonardo da Vinci.
