Ghost Wall

by Sarah Moss

why would I take it seriously? Because they are men, I thought, because they’re in charge, because there will be consequences if you don’t. I didn’t see how she could not know that.

I brought the small heads one at a time in hands cupped as if to receive the body of Christ, the blood and bones of my fingers and palms a final brief protection.

There had been minds there. Sheep cry for their taken lambs, even rabbits know alarm and need. I raised each one as a sacrament to the ghost wall, found myself bowing my head as Dad set them in place.