Colleen M. Farrelly

Everybody Dies

It’s a worst-case scenario unfolding in my mind. We lose a friend (or a whole bird full of them). They can’t process the paperwork. Grief and PTSD pounce. We lose our jobs. We lose our insurance, alone until they process the paperwork. We lose our house. We’re under a bridge, dead before they process the paperwork. Everybody dies. Sooner or later, everybody in uniform dies.

answering
a buddy’s call—
shadows passing in the night