
Caleb Crain Reads “Easter”
The New Yorker: The Writer's Voice - New Fiction from The New Yorker
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Grandad Jay's Last Thoughts
Eleanor asked sisty and cal who are you going to call before we call the funeral home. Do you want m to look again? Jacob volunteered. The face wasn't different from the way it had been the night before, a little more sallow, maybe. Maybe in his last moments, out of a kind of politeness, grandad jay had been trying not to let jacob know that he had upset his plans. It was strange to pull a sheet over some one else the way one did for oneself when one wanted to disappear.
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