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My Tenant

They put up Tenant’s tombstone yesterday. I started by taking a rubbing of it. Then I decided to draw it. After that, I drew a picture of what I thought Tenant himself could look like. I drew six. They’re at the bottom. I like the third one best. I think he was blond with dark tragic eyes.

I think I could be satisfied with the plot next to his. Do you think his family has already bought it? I want to go to the town offices and check, but do you think they’ll take me seriously? I think they’ll tell me to go home and then spread the news around town that I asked. Maybe I can put it in my will.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

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Kerry’s interest in Tenant grew and as it grew it became increasingly unhealthy. She wanted to die. She wanted to lie beside him and forget about her whole life. And when she sat next to his tombstone or leaned against the back of it, she felt her loneliness slip away.

She told him how she failed gym class and how she’d been held back a grade in grade two. She would have been in the grade beneath him if she hadn’t flunked.

She read him her favorite poetry and even read him her favorite book cover to cover.

Yet, even though she shared all this with him, she didn’t know anything about him. She didn’t know how he died. After considering all the possibilities, she decided that he had been killed in a car accident. She didn’t know what he looked like, so she picked his looks. Soon she had his personality all mapped out in her head and when she talked to him, she knew what he would say in return.

What if his ghost were with her? She was a ghost anyway. They were the perfect couple. She wanted to fall asleep next to him and dream the dreams of the dead – his dreams. What did he dream of?

And she wasted the hours of her life leaning against the monument of Tenant’s wishing she was dead too.