How To Appreciate The Snow Salutation
A few weeks later, my mother and I found him curled up on the carpet, his face smooth and blue with cold blood. When we pulled him up, he exhaled. Or so we thought. It was his last breath, trapped until our stirring released it, a sigh that was the last of him escaping. That night I dreamed my stepfather had a ceramic face that smiled until it fell away in shards, until all that was left was a radiant joy—something between a light and a song....