The Grieving Process

A shovelful of soil hit the lid of the coffin with a thump. “Saddest sound in the world,” my twin brother said. Good thing you weren’t there. We started to see twins everywhere we looked. They jumped off bridges. They drove cars into lakes. They even tauntingly smiled and waved. If you think this could be, but then say, “No, it’s not like that,” go with your initial instinct. I’m staying in my room, not answering the phone, not answering texts, not answering emails. Most weekdays, it’s bam-bam-bam, the sound when a dude keeps his finger on the trigger.