End of Story

by A.J. Finn

“Life is hard. After all, it kills you.”

“People your age—young people, I mean—you treat your lives like galleries, for public display, open to all. My life is no gallery. It’s a vault, a black box, and—I’m sorry I can’t put this more elegantly—it’s nobody’s damn business.”

“I suppose that if I’m grieving, then I must have loved whatever I lost, however I lost it. I suppose—it’s like a scar reminding me of some adventure I had. Or like the end credits of a wonderful film. So . . . no, I’m not comfortable with it, but I’m grateful for it.”