Below we have another installment of something written a couple summers ago when creative nonfiction seemed boring and research too consuming. 

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Saffi did not speak again before she died. She just sat up straight in that minimal bed. With her last breath, she relaxed against the headboard, and slumped to her left. Harald was sad, but he hadn’t been holding her or watching too closely. He cared—most certainly, he cared.

But if he had held her, he might have seen something undignified. Dead people always mess themselves, and he could not bear to see his mother so debased. So he let her slouch in her bedclothes instead. Calling the maids to his aid, Harald instructed them to wash her and prepare her for the most important funeral since his father had died. Continue reading “The Death of the Princess and the Pea, Part II”