The children felt asleep, breastfed by death and comforted by the headless doll, they snored loudly, mocking the unpaid singers and the dirge.
He knew they will rise- sneaky little bastards! They materialized from the thin air in the middle of the night and demanded rent.
In the final days, when he couldn’t make himself read it, he turned to his wife of 30 years. She tried to clearly enunciate, but his own name didn’t ring a bell-the name chalked on the board attached to the front door; the name they forced upon a fetus with a feeble hope that in time the old man will understand; the name that never gave a notice or took a step outside the house agreement papers.