Waiting For The Angels
by Luke Kokoszka

When Brother ascended Mama stopped being the Mama we knew her to be. I seen it first. We rode our bikes down the street from our house when his bum slowly lifted off the seat. The bike kept cruising without him on it before it spun out and crashed into the sidewalk. I stopped too. I’d never seen nothing of those likes. When Mama took us to church every Sunday the boring man would yell about Jesus and sometimes tell us how he resurrected. So that’s what I told Mama when I got home. I says to her I says, Mama, Brother done a resurrection. Shut your stupid noodle, she says. So I did, right. Ain’t nothing else to say.