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

pointed down. Her face was white.

“You okay?” she asked.

No. I was not okay. I was standing on top of my dead best friend’s coffin about to open it.

“Yeah,” I said. “Hand me the pry bar.”

She did.

I worked the seal loose. The casket was supposed to be locked but the latches gave way with pressure. They weren’t built to keep people out. They were built to continue reading …