Because there’s never enough family, we’re off to brunch and a walk through the graveyard with my Mazy girl, looking for the tombstones of people we never knew who nevertheless shared our genetics. No word on whether they were good people, or successful, kind or criminal, loving or misanthrope.
Someday, some ancestor of mine may walk by my grave and think, whatever did he do, and have absolutely no idea. That’s if I don’t get one of those mushrooms suits to be buried in, to give back to the earth. Magic mushrooms, please, if they’re available. Everyone deserves a good light show and a hearty laugh.
Target: 1300 words
Written: 180 words, novel: Father Lightning