the solar system is in jeopardy

published on metazen



we shook her ashes toward the ocean
while a magic carpet wind slid underneath and dashed them into the rocks, the actual weight of the matter inversely proportional to the weight of the matter. i hoped the formality and execution were significant and trusted that some would eventually sift down into the sea. my little brother, embarrassed by the gaze of bystanders, slumped a few feet away; my baby sister, small, quiet, burrowed her face into my armpit while i stroked her hair. my stepfather tossed a rose onto the shallow lapping ripples beneath us. we were left to our sadness, mostly, four lost planets in orbit around nothing.

my stepfather had brought his new girlfriend along and left her at her family's shore house. it was crass and cruel and indicative of his complete lack of nuance and feeling. i told him so, assured it made him feel worse. we needed a parent to help us grieve; he needed a woman (after woman after woman) to help him fill the hole.

back at the car he cried for the first time since her death and clung to me like a little boy, the spirit leaving his body, abandoning sinking bones and flesh grasping at something (anything) to keep his mass from seeping into the earth. he told me her ashes had felt warm on the seat next to him, and that he would give anything in this world to have one more pizza with her on a friday night.


we ate at friendly's on the way home and then i went to a nightclub. people grieve differently.