Lilith was interested in the mortician's blue scrubs (even though they'd just been washed, he said), and in his off-white athletic slippers, the heavy socks that slipped into them. The mortician asked how I am; we haven't talked in a long time, except sometimes through the window of his red Mercedes. OK, I say, so long as I don't turn on the news. "Oh, the news is good!" he says, his voice brighter than usual. "The prophecies are coming true.They say that when people start talking about 'peace and security,' things are falling apart. And that's exactly what they're saying, in just those words, peace and security. The United Nations is saying they want peace and security." I suggest that whatever the Trump administration says, the opposite is true. "Oh no, it's not Trump, even though he thinks he's the only one. It's the entire world." Beside us, The Detailer, as the mortician says he's called, was washing a white van until it shown, revelatory, in the morning sun.
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