Mother

My mother just died.

Ding.
Lololohahahoho
Yo Jimmy u got to get to this party
Lol

The church people give their condolences and spread to the edges of the room, then leave. I make a plate from the wake of bestowed cooking. They circle like vultures, eyes flicking up in muted anticipation.

The others sense a breaking point while I shovel macaroni, unaware. I notice a splash in the gravy and look up to find the leak. None can be found. The point of origin cannot see itself. An overwhelming takes hold —

My mother just died.

Ding.
Haha
Lol
Dude u got to see this
Where u at

— The drip of the waterfall cannot be noticed as it hits rock bottomless tables of food: an orphanage. Why should I feel anger when it lies open against the wall; a still body emanating a sense of what used to be but never can be again?

Cared for in her years, the scream escapes an animal giving way to the flooded descent. I grab the bottle of red on the table for comfort and read of aging in an oak casket, soon to return to the ground.

My mother just died, and I want to turn it off but keep thinking she’ll call.

Ding.
Lol

People watch in silent agony.