Natural Causes — Part II
On the ninth month after Joe had died of natural causes, Mary was in St. Francis reciting her novena for the dead, quiet like, lips moving, nothing coming out, holding her rosary. A shadow crossed her sightline to Jesus. She looked up, lips still moving, thumbing the beads.
"God bless you."
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.