From: ‘Mina Bayless’
Sent: Friday, April 15, 2011 2:45 AM
To: ‘Elle Wakefield’


Can’t sleep.  Don’t want to, not with this new world outside my window.  Afraid if I close my eyes something will pass me by.  Can’t say what.  Curtain open wide, watching the street.  Thoughts grind down in my head, listing the calls I have to make, writing the obit, trying to figure out how to get ahold of Dad’s other kids to let them know.  Could we even agree on a funeral?  I feel the thoughts wear away, lose their edges, turn to powder but something in me refuses to surrender.

Someone singing quietly in the hall, words I can’t understand.  I think of a Christmas tree in the dark, a warm current under the cold of the sea.  I listen.