all of this talk of death...
I spent my childhood in a white gingerbread victorian house. every day I would catch moths in the yard and swing on the swingset, and every day my neighbor would wave and say hello. he was a tall, white haired man with big glasses and a smile. He owned and operated a funeral home next to us and drove a hearse. mourners would walk down our sidewalk to his house, and my brother and i would befriend the children from the families of the dead that came into our yard bored from the funeral service.
The kind neighbor gave us extra candy on halloween and fixed my swing a few times when it broke. We moved away when I was 11 and a few years later when he had opened a candy store on market street my mother and I would go and visit him and buy sweets.
He died only days ago.
The kind neighbor gave us extra candy on halloween and fixed my swing a few times when it broke. We moved away when I was 11 and a few years later when he had opened a candy store on market street my mother and I would go and visit him and buy sweets.
He died only days ago.