It was in early February of 1993 when my mother's brother was killed in a high-speed car accident, leaving behind his two young children and pregnant wife. The magnitude of the tragedy was terrible, and much of the family expressed a great deal of anger as well as distress. I was a child of eight at the time, and was pulled out of school to go to the funeral in North Carolina with my family. The …showed first 75 words of 592 total…

…showed last 75 words of 592 total…to whir into life. It slowly extended the casket over the grave and lowered it with a steady metallic clicking sound. As I watched the polished box sink from sight, I recalled my uncle's unfamiliar face, and once again felt that strange indifference, as if this weren't my uncle's funeral, but a stranger's. Feeling peculiarly unmoved, I turned my attention to the sun and the softening ground, and began to notice how hungry I was.