I Hear Her Say

My father, sister and I board a fishing boat to take us out to sea. I am holding my mother’s remains in a wooden urn. I am the one tapped to do the deed. When we are far enough out, I walk to the back of the boat. The driver slows down and then cuts the engine. I pull out mother-in-a-bag. I begin to pour. Just then the breeze kicks up and throws her ashes back in my face. Not so fast, sweetie! I gasp. I am covered in my mother. I cough. I spit. I move fast. I finish the job. In a dramatic gesture I toss the urn overboard. It bobs up and down on the waves like a turtle. Then it begins to sink. Oh crap! I can’t swim!

journal entry
finally
the last word