The Vanishing Half

by Brit Bennett

It’s a new world, ain’t it? Did you know the world is so new?

and behind the counter, Desiree Vignes wrapped around herself.

That was the thing about death. Only the specifics of it hurt. Death, in a general sense, was background noise. She stood in the silence of it.

Her death hit in waves. Not a flood, but water lapping steadily at her ankles. You could drown in two inches of water. Maybe grief was the same.