Death comes in threes. Status Update read,
“Fuck My Life”. I didn’t know she was gone forty minutes earlier. She was
eleven years old. I taught her first word: Bitch. Cried ‘til there were
no more tears. He died one week later. Cancer in three places: his lungs
being most crucial. He was 79 when we danced last summer. I missed both
funerals. Duty calls. She kicked first. He kicked second. There’s a jerk
in my knee.
By Autumn Adeigbo of
