Friday, July 31, 2009


by Ari Collins

“Can’t believe he’s dead,” she says.

Our Amtrak train halts between stops again. At this rate we’ll miss the funeral.

“Yeah,” I say. “Me neither.”

“No. Like, really. I mean, we’re in our twenties. Who dies? Seriously, who does that?”

The old woman across the aisle leans over her luggage. “Oh, Dearie. Everybody does that.”


Sonja said...

I like this one.

Allie said...

This piece cracked me up