There were times as a kid in the park behind the factory, across from the railroad tracks, I would hang around with friends attempting giant swings on the crude pipes set up as a high bar. Giant swings! With a mixture of dirt and gravel and broken pieces of glass underneath tearing holes in our clothes as we wore gaps in the day; immortal daredevils. *** The tiny two bucket seat sports car once defied intimacy, taunted with exposed breasts across the hand brake, Cathy Carol M

It was midway through the wake’s visiting hours, and the mortuary’s tiny chapel had grown crowded.