and after a while I asked her what it was like to be dead. Apparently Linda thought it was a silly question. She smiled and said, “Do I look dead?” I told her no, she looked terrific. I waited a moment, then asked again, and Linda made a soft little sigh. I could smell our wool mittens drying on the stove. For a few seconds she was quiet. “Well, right now,” she said, “I’m not dead. But when I am, it’s like . . . I don’t know, I guess it’s like being inside a book that nobody’s reading.” “A book?” I said. “An old one. It’s up on a library shelf, so you’re safe and everything, but the book
...more
