They pile us on a field. Try to identify us, contact loved ones.
I think of older sister Nancy.
She must be coming.
She could joke about my love of Polo shirts and say I love you. Call me a man-child, but with a certain gentleness.
Why hasn’t she come? She hates delays.
She used to discard jackets in winter. Take me to Forgetting Sarah Marshall while fighting the flu.
They shuffle us. Musical corpses.
I conjure Nan’s smile, crooked, but wide. Play my nicknames in her cigarette-tinged voice, Nicky, Saint Nick.
Bodies are shuffled again.
I wait, but don’t think.
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His story, “Soon,” was nominated for a Pushcart. Yash has also had work nominated for Best of the Net and The Best Small Fictions. A native of Idaho, Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, and Ariel Chart, among others.