Hush

The sound of loss and the flicker that remains

The shrill ring of my phone splits the dark.

4:13 a.m.

A woman’s voice enters my ear:

“Your mother has died… She went in her sleep… Would you like to come see her… Her things are here…”

Her words dissolve into static.

I press end.

Silence fills the room.

Only Simba’s labored breathing moves inside it.

I rise, drifting down the stairs.

In the kitchen, I glance r…