My Uncle is Dead

Cora sat under the eave, sewing in her lap, lost in thought. It took a few minutes for the young voice to get through. “Nana? Nana?” She looked up.

It took another second to recognize the face, backlit by the afternoon sun. “Anthony? Is that you?” She saw his expression. He knew.

The young man turned his back on her, and leaned against the timber, facing the valley. She doubted he could see it. Those eyes had been full of tears.

“Tell me, Nana. What happened? What happened to my uncle.”

Cora sighed. Anthony had loved his uncle. Admired him. Explaining his death, explaining why — wasn’t going to be easy. But it was important. She must answer this question well. Anthony must understand the two-edged sword of virtue that had been his uncle Judas, how it made him a good man, and how it had, in the end, killed him.

to be continued

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