Friday,
8:30pm,
an unexpected text:

My dad passed late this afternoon.
He was comfortable and not in pain.
The kids and I were with him when he died.
I just got home.

I knew the man was very old.
and said maybe people who
live to be that old are here
for a special reason.

Maybe they aren’t,
of course, but those are
the things you
say.

Imagine the scene, though:
The door closes behind her,
the keys on the hook.
She’s still wearing her
jacket, but doesn’t
know what to do.
The room is
silent.