Max is the color of burnt caramelized sugar the sweet crust that decorates our bright enameled pots.

Gasps and shouts, a hand on my arm, sequined gowns and expensive colognes parting before me. And then, there, Raymond’s crumpled form on the hardwood floor of the foyer, like a sleeve torn from a jacket, the stitches frayed and useless.

We had them in our bunk beds in the trailer, before Becky fell and broke her neck.

Don't throw earth on bones.