Status Updates From Boxes

Don't believe what they tell you. There's nothing above us, and nothing beneath. Just us, here and now, like survivors of a shipwreck.

"But he needed to be up there, on his own, with the cat on his knee, sitting in the armchair, gazing at the cemetery. Lonely but loyal old women, their fingers contorted by arthritis, would come to dust and lay flowers on the graves, which were neatly lined up like children’s cots. It wasn’t sad. It was still life, just."