I sit on the porch swing, partly because I’m baiting the bear, and partly because it’s a damn good swing. I wish Jack would just explode. Yell at me for getting into his stuff, for being too nosey… for dragging the memory of Amy out from under the tarp where he buried it.
‘Cause I know it was meant for Amy. I found the inscription after I had replaced the broken slates and started to clean off the old ones. The words were faded and a few letters scraped off, but I could read it just the same.
Mi Familia.
Probably should’ve stopped then. Put the whole thing away, and gone back to watching TV. Instead, I sanded and painted it, put new chains on, and then took some black paint and re-traced Jack’s inscription. The one he wrote to his dead wife and unborn child.
Not because I’m a good pers
