Frank’s Last Rites
by Jana Gillham
A stranger to short-story writing, I was delighted when this piece was named a finalist in my local writers’ group contest. It placed in the top 16 entries of a total of 59. Check out the anthology here.
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Frank’s Last Rites
This story serves as his funeral, for he would have none of that nonsense.
Addressing the Dying
It was her custom in the days of COVID to gather air and sunshine into her lungs before work. She walked down the sidewalk one January morning avoiding random patches of ice. He stood at the open door of his garage. “Would you mind bringing up the paper? I’m afraid my knees are bad.” She delivered it up, he thanked her and that was it. Except the next morning as she passed by, on a whim, she picked up the paper and laid it close to his garage door. The following morning, she did so again. The next day, a cardboard sign adorned with a smiley face greeted her at the garage door. “Thank you for the paper.” It was signed, Frank.
Most mornings after that, whether she took a morning walk or not, she placed Frank’s paper within easy reach of his garage door. They had briefly met the previous November while waiting around to vote in the elementary school gym. She admired the quilted detail of his sage green…