Once upon a time, there were two brothers.

The older brother is clever but thin, with bones showing through his skin and bulging blue eyes glazed from medicine. He is serious and stern for his brief years, which are counting down to nothing. The younger brother is weakened and round, with a hardened wit and crippled hips. He is sensitive and old for his brief years.

One night, the older brother decided that he'd had enough of fighting with his sickness. He quietly opened the envelope beside his bed and slid out and signed the hospital papers. Do not resuscitate. The younger brother, melancholy at the thought of lonliness, desired to follow. But alas, the younger brother's will impeded him from losing his fight just yet; instead, he stuck fast, with his ass in his seat and his mind facing rounds of malicious snickers from Death below.

"Don...tell me, what was it you were trying to say?"

"Stop making so much noise. I'll tell you when I wake up."

And with that, the older brother disappeared into the terrible dark night.

"Jess, I just needed to get out of the house for awhile."

My grandmother and I were having dinner. She's turning 78 in a few weeks. She's hurting, nursing her oldest son. Grandpa left us exactly two years ago. Uncle Don looks so much like him now; it would be difficult to tell them apart. It must be so hard for her. But I know I cannot understand.

"Will you take these leftovers to your father? I've got to get back. You know."

I take the box, heavy with untouched food.

"Anything you need."

My father has a bad cold, but he can't stay away. He's wearing a cheap hospital mask, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks.

"He's barely hanging on."

"Dad, he's not dead yet. You still have time with him."

"I know, I know. I can't stop now."

"Take care of him for me, Jessie. You know he's taking this worse than I am. I yelled at him this morning; I didn't mean to."

"I know. I know. He knows."