The brightness somehow increased through the thin layer of his eyelids. He did not open his eyes, but heard a man respond to the woman. There was a melody to their interaction that harmonized with the choir and the birdsong floating through the garden.

People often talked about wanting to witness their own funeral. I couldn’t see the appeal, myself. Sure, everyone said grand things about me. But their pain hurt my soul.

The Reformed Mallard makes his nest on Twitter here. The Ghost and the Machine Reformed Mallard Harold Boxley stepped through …