She was deceased, my grandmother
Packing was an abominable chore
Brothers deciding
Who would get what
(I already had the 200 yr old table)
Then the scream of horror
Guttural and disgusting
Great uncle Roy screaming
MY name
So I run
And there he stands over
A nightstand drawer
Peering at a simple
Creamy vibrator
Remove it he says!
I stared at the last
Remnants of
Grandma’s youth
And shivered
We found one
In every room
I knew because
There was always
A scream
