What We Bury
By Emery C. Walters
Max went home to bury his father. The old man had died the way he had lived, stupidly. He fell down on the front steps and broke the bottle of gin he was carrying. A shard of broken glass pierced his chest. He’d made it to the hospital, but only lasted a few days before having a massive heart attack.
Max’s brother Sam greeted Max at the door, saying, “How are you, you pest. Dad’s last words to me were, Don’t let that faggot say anything at my…damn waste of good gin…fuck this.” Then Sam threw his arms around his younger brother and wailed, “Damn it! What a stupid-head he was! I hated him, too, you know!”
Max set down his bag and hugged his brother tight. “You too, huh?” he murmured. “I never knew.” Max was thinking that it was himself they’d all hated, S
