A Price You’d Die For

Ezra’s eyes wandered the racks with distate.

¿We don’t have any ordinary shirt @ home?

Mercelo was sliding through shirt after shirt on 1 rack.

I wanted something fresh for him.

Ezra put his hands in his pockets with stiff-in arms as if trying to protect them from the air.

¿Shouldn’t you be getting him a tux or something?

That’s too stiff, said Marcelo as he moved on to ’nother rack. I wanted something mo’ to his personality. He stopped @ a shirt hanging with its face out. He stepped back & pointed to it. ¿How ’bout this?

Ezra stared witheringly @ a lime T-shirt with a yellow smiley face on it, & then looked ’way.

Where that smiley face is, ¿what if… something seeps into it?

Marcelo turned back to the shirt. Don’t be silly: they’ll clean that up ’fore we put it on him.

Ezra muttered to himself, Yes, I’m the 1 being silly…


shirt, shopping, funeral