The Funeral, Part 2

The Funeral, Part 2

 Parked cars lined both sides of North 4th street where Mrs. Hobson lived. I parked underneath a stop sign, which was probably illegal. There’s a silver lining in a city with a stressed police department. They don’t have time for minor infractions. Kendu double...
The Funeral, Part 1

The Funeral, Part 1

I was compelled to attend my old acquaintance’s funeral, not as a courtesy, nor as a homage, but as a debt that I owed.  No. One that we all owed, the kids who grew up in the Pit. It was a debt our late brother never knew existed. Next to the coffin, a memorial...