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Show Go Love/140 gravity had no hold on him. I remember snow in the Tilt-O-Whirl mirrors, the roadside hippies scared shitless when O.W. got down on his air horn. What else?~the Tilt-O-Whirl mirrors, antelope chewing sage under a turquoise sky, the freak chill on me. "I don't want to see her Daddy." "That's fine." Cigarette butts are strewn the entire length of the home's front stoop-just like last time and the time before. Mama's handwritten obituary is folded in my front pocket I'm in shorts and river Tevas, the fingers on my right hand still cut up from fishing twenty pound test. "Mama'd want me to say I love you." O.W. breaks up again, just a little, his bottom lip quivering. "I want her to look pretty." "I don't want to see her." "I understand " We're outside the front double doors, getting eyed by somebody on the other side I can feel the eyes on me, evaluating the situation, choosing words. "She's in a better place " Many of the cigarette butts~and I mean there are hundreds smoked to degrees that vary between not at all to deep into the nub-are printed with lipstick, Maybelline, no doubt, probably stuffed on the same line where Mama worked. "Better than where?" Cars pass lazily out on the highway, beyond the hot parking lot. A decade plus some ago, we'd all driven up to this same parking lot, climbed out and looked at Jimmy laying on grey crushed velvet in his jet-silver casket. Mama'd passed out, knocked the corner of her head on a |