I meet B. in the graveyard.
She is my age, more or less.
I have been coming here for nine years,
every Sabbath - she explains -.
My little son died in his sleep.
A sudden death.
I had gone to work at the cannery.
My elder son, the seven year old, realized
that he could not wake him up
to go to school.
By Miren Agur Meabe
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