40 lede

The Rest We Give to Fire 
by Troy Baillargeon

In the blue morning, I found little reason not to roam the gridded cemetery. With a sober mind and closing eyes, I buried my ego once more, not far from my father's father and bride. He died when I was a boy, but old Rosie still needed to love. Jimmy was a good man, and he grabbed my wayward grandmother by the reins.
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