The girls across the street don’t live with their parents. Dad’s in jail, and the girls are being raised by their paternal grandmother. I don’t really know Mom’s story. Her name’s Danita. She lives in the Calliope, a housing project not too far from here. She comes around occasionally.

But I should use the past tense. She used to come around occasionally. She won’t be coming around anymore. Yesterday, she was bathing her youngest child, her son Will, who’s still just a baby. And while she was bathing him, she died. No one seems to know exactly what happened. I guess she probably had a heart attack or an aneurysm.

She was 32.

One thought on “Death”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.