The Sleeping Sisters

As a city-contracted crime scene remediation specialist, the places he scrubs are normal, domestic even, until blood pools on linoleum or brain matter streaks ceilings. Forty-Seven Forty-Eight Forty-Nine Fifty Fifty-One Fifty-Two Fifty-Three Fifty-Four Fifty-Five Fifty-Six Fifty-Seven Fifty-Eight Fifty-Nine Sixty Sixty-One Sixty-Two Sixty-Three Sixty-Four Sixty-Five Sixty-Six Sixty-Seven Sixty-Eight Sixty-Nine Seventy Seventy-One In Marion’s case, none of the souvenirs matched the DNA of the Sleeping Sisters, but there was a tree tag for a nursery that he frequented as a landscaper nearby the volcano gravesite. Dry at first until it seems his convulsions will turn him inside out and he finally releases ash, thick and black, pouring from him, coating his hands, dark stone spilling and heaping at his feet.