Um…. I’m not sure how to describe the piece of fiction that I just read, except to say, “it was interesting.”

Titled Branches #4: Notes On a Funeral, the fiction piece seems to be written to someone who has died.  It includes this evocative paragraph:

Become a ghost. Please. Sift down through the grey clouds like flour and drift into our apple pies. Curl into a rain drop and slide down our windshields. Hover around like mist if you have to.

The author also writes lists of “Acceptable Comments to Make Into a Microphone at a Funeral” and “Unacceptable Comments to Make…”

I just re-read it (to make sure I’m actually writing accurately about it) and I still don’t get it.  But I like it.

Maybe you will, too.

Link:  Branches #4: Notes On a Funeral

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