By Chris Cochran
I was asked to be a pallbearer for my grandmother’s funeral despite being prepubescent. A boy not yet one hundred pounds, according to social conventions, was more capable of lifting a casket than a grown woman. Crying became an inconvenience, for the weight required me to use both my hands.
* * *
Chris Cochran is a high school English teacher who writes first drafts on an old typewriter in a small nook beneath his basement steps. He lives in Michigan with his wife and son, where he spends most evenings drinking tea and falling asleep to comedy podcasts.