Margaret Maryadded this to when im gone
Kissing the Dead

Kissing the Dead

The New Yorker - Marisa Silver

He was gone. I heard the final, awful rattle, the ragged, gasping breath that I couldn’t help thinking was full of his angry, determined desire to beat this impossible thing that had happened to him. He’d taken a fall. He’d hit his head. Now he was dead. When I’d first walked into the hospital room …

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