Can I tell you a secret? I knew she was dead. I just hoped she’d be in the trunk of a car, chopped up, and buried somewhere. Not in a freezer, hiding in plain sight. That aggravated the pain felt by anyone who ever laid eyes on her. Once red, she became a starless sky, an endless midnight, a hole in the universe swallowing up the world, leaving everyone blind. Onyx, ebony, jet black. A part of me was glad Monday wasn’t named Friday. It would’ve been too tragic.
