A story

Dina is the mother of Alex. Sylvia is the mother of Dina.

Once Alex and Dina's neighbor killed his dog. The police got very involved. They asked questions of all the neighbors. The investigation was thorough. The case needed to be solid.

When Alex died there was no investigation. The police did not ask questions. There were three heroine overdoses in the neighborhood recently. Alex had a needle mark in each arm. Weird. Dina is angry her daughter didn't merit the same investigation as a dog. She hires a private investigator, but it doesn't matter. He's a waste of money. She searches on her own and learns things, she sees neon signs confirming her suspicions, but nothing that would hold up in court.

Two months prior to her death this very pretty young Alex asked her grandmother if they could have dinner each Sunday as a family. Sylvia said, "Of course." The Sunday before her death Alex cancelled, she wasn't feeling well. She asked if they could get together the following Sunday. Sylvia said, "Of course."

Alex's boyfriend was a drug dealer. She dumped him. He said, "He'd get her." Maybe he did. Is that what they call motive? The night Alex died his father took him out of town. Weird. Does that make sense?

Dina is recovering from an infection. The doctor gave her a 12% chance of survival. We wanted to send her flowers, but Sylvia said we shouldn't. Since Alex's funeral Dina hates flowers.

Dina's fingers turned black as she lay dying. Sylvia says Dina bloated to incredible proportions during the whole ordeal. The dead black skin is peeling off of Dina's fingers now as the healing takes place. She's shedding. Her fingers are needly from being asleep too long, but Sylvia says good, the feeling is returning.

There is a fourth woman. Sylvia's mother. She makes incredible rice pudding. She's going blind. She's going deaf. Her hip aches, her hands ache. She's pissed she's still alive. She's had a good life. At 90 she asks, "What am I still doing here?" I'd like to know that too.