When I first moved to my house thirty-five years ago, I would stroll my baby twins in their carriage almost every day on a loop that led past the Accord Rural Cemetery. The graveyard sign misspelled the word as “Cemetary,” and I would say to myself,
I'll Be Dead
I'll Be Dead
I'll Be Dead
When I first moved to my house thirty-five years ago, I would stroll my baby twins in their carriage almost every day on a loop that led past the Accord Rural Cemetery. The graveyard sign misspelled the word as “Cemetary,” and I would say to myself,