Blue Ships Publishing

“What if there is no heaven?” Micah asked.

I looked up at him from my Life magazine and a bowl of cereal to stare at him. I told Mom that boy needed treatment. Hell, for $50, I coulda solved all his problems.

“I mean, did you ever think about that, Mary?” he asked.

I knew where he was going with this, of course. He always became introspective when shit had gone down hard and he was about to be in more trouble than a pirate before a magistrate.

“Listen, Micah,” I said to him. “The best thing you can do is call a life insurance agent. ‘Cause there’s no amount of heaven or hell questioning that’s gonna save you when Mom sees her car parked in the living room.