by J. R. Ayers
“You should leave while we shroud the body,” the nurse said. She was standing by the foot of the bed holding a large folded sheet.
“Get out,” Jack said sharply. “Just leave us alone for awhile.”
After the nurse left, he turned down the lantern and shut the door and sat with her for nearly an hour trying to understand why she had to die. A few tears came, but he felt his grieving wholly inadequate. It was like trying to say goodbye to a shadow.
The priest knocked softly on the door and announced himself and Jack let him in with little enthusiasm. “I’m so sorry, Jack, I will pray for—”
“Save it padre. This isn’t the time for your religious bullshit.”
“Is there nothing I can do for you?”
Jack looked at him for a long time and then laughed bitterly. “There’s nothing that can be done for a lost cause, padre.”