I Destroyed My Best Friend’s Grave Because of What His Widow Told Me

after the first two feet. My hands blistered, then bled. Rachel tried to help but I wouldn’t let her.

This was my job. Danny was my brother. I’d carry this.

At 6:10 AM, the shovel hit wood.

The sound went through me like electricity. I stopped. Stood in the hole. Six feet down. Looking at the lid of my best friend’s casket.

Rachel was above me, flashlight continue reading …