by Caroline Zarlengo Sposto
I didn’t recognize the Grim Reaper. He wore kahkis and a black polo shirt with an embroidered sickle where a little alligator emblem might be.
“Call me Larry,” he said, shaking my hand. He then reached into his pocket and added, "here's my card.”
“Larry––” I began.
"Excuse me. Sorry, Just one moment," he said, taking out his iPhone and responding to a text.
He ushered me onto a crowded shuttle bus. It had a dirty, beige interior. An air freshener shaped like a pine tree dangled from the rear view mirror.
Everyone got out near a bank of touch screen kiosks. The lines were long.
I cried a bit. I wasn't prepared for death to be this impersonal.
2 comments:
Very vivid. Love the "Call me Larry" bit.
Absolutely loved it!
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