The Widow’s Last Rites
by Kristine Ong Muslim
After he has clung to the tightening noose around his neck, she will make sure that he
cannot escape her again. Here’s to the tongue that laps up the leftovers.
She takes a handful of his ashes from the jar provided by the crematorium attendant,
crams it into her mouth, savors the bitterness between gulps of distilled water.
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