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Postmodern Village
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holiday of disobedience
by Francine DuBois

He spent all Memorial Day refusing to remember.
He flipped over the pictures a week before so he couldn't see them.
He turned off the phone so no one could call that would remind him.
He turned off his computer so he wouldn't be tempted to check his e-mail.

When Memorial Day came, he tried so hard to forget that he could only think about her.
Her bruised face from the fall.
How her heart stopped.
The sound of beeping from the ICU.
Wailing from other families.
And his own silence.
How others thought him strong.

He couldn't go to her grave on Memorial Day with all those other people in the graveyard, doing what they were expected to do on the holiday.
Feeling the gravity of loss on one day per year at a prescribed time that coincided with the peak of floral growing seasons.
She knew, he knew, she knew how he'd feel about it and she'd understand.
They had always had that in common.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version
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