On the news, they talk of trade-offs between bodies and money.
Older sister Nancy was a hostess at an Italian restaurant. Once she moved about, serving bread and wine with snark, whispering suicide and death jokes to me, joking about patrons’ wardrobe.
Now she gasps, calling for me, virus rising.
I can’t visit.
The restaurant won’t pay my sister her due.
They trumpet statistics. X customers, Z dollars.
One night, I take out their windows with baseball bats. Turn tables. Destroy cash registers.
The destruction is a mere tantrum. They can repair this, replace Nancy. Trump more statistics.
Nancy gasps, unheard.
Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. Yash’s work is forthcoming or has been published in WestWard Quarterly, Café Lit, and Ariel Chart, among others.