Ham and Death

by Ari Collins


I shook my head. "Look at our brother. Scarfing sandwiches at Dad's funeral reception."

My sister shrugged. "He's in shock. We all are."

"But that's just wrong. He should grieve, not hide in ham."

"We're all keeping busy." She glared at me. "And gnoshing's probably healthier than, say, talking behind someone's back at a funeral."