The day after she died,

I went to visit a wax museum.

I never wept, never cried,

Just enjoyed my freedom.

The day after she died,

I didn’t attend the funeral.

I sat on the curb outside

And smoked another Marlboro.

The day after she died,

My daughter asked where mom went.

I could only sigh

And tell her we’d get a replacement....

Dallas had stripped the wallpaper, for one, but he didn’t do a good job of it. Still little ribbons and swathes of the yellow flowers hanging on.

I walked through the corridors like I was observing a museum. Here were the family portraits, here was the chimney full of spiderwebs, and here was our kitchen sink we bathed the newborn pups last year.

I traced my fingers on the rust lining the sink. ...

Archeologists have made a breaking discovery in Turkey’s ancient musical history: the lur.

The lur is believed to be an instrument denoted primarily to funerary settings, as it was unearthed in the site of an ancient morgue— however, interestingly enough, similar artifacts have been found in courthouses and prisons, only they are made out of steel instead of wood.

The lur is a heavy seven-string...