Into the Fall

by Tamara L. Miller

Why would anyone voluntarily leave the comforts of central heating and down pillows to sleep on the ground?

It was like that, grief. Dormant, but always ravenous, waking in its own time to steal away moments of contentment.

Her daughter was so much, and yet nothing, like her.

“Oh, no need to apologize, dear. It’s nice to see a happy young person these days. Seems most of you spend your time complaining about everything. It baffles me. Try making it to my age, then tell me if it’s so rough.”

A funny thing happened to rational thought through tragedy. To cope, the mind followed strange paths carved by grief and wishful thinking.

I do not believe my son is a bad man, not truly, but he seems incapable of not inflicting damage.

Matt had always prided himself on being a decisive person. He made it part of his persona, willed himself not to get trapped by small details or the enormity of a challenge.

It was fucking idyllic, and she hated it. It felt like an insult to Matthew’s memory, to the pain her family had endured. How dare the lake and forest look inviting and peaceful? It was a beast that had taken so much from her, putting on a show of false promise to lure others.

“I don’t know that the universe cares enough about us. Way I see it, we’re nothing more than fleas on the back of a bear when it comes to the universe. Nature don’t care about right or wrong. There’s no cosmic retribution. Good people make mistakes; bad people do good. It’s randomness and chance in my mind. Call it the universe, call it the hand of God, call it dust sprites, it’s all the same. Life does what it does, and there isn’t always a reason.”