Likely the End of Something Overdue

Coyote held a wake the night before he had to have his last wisdom tooth extracted.

“Is really about the tooth?” someone asked someone else, yelling so they could hear. “Probably not, but I don’t think it matters.” The din of the room suffocated their conversation. It ebbed out in a far corner. “I had mine taken out all at once,” someone said. “It was terrible.” The neighbours pounded on the shared wall.

People moved about lighting candles. They turned the music off, for a moment of silence at midnight. Coyote wept, and did a poor job of hiding it.

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