Brutal End, Bitter Inheritance

The air in the house, usually thick with the cloying scent of my grandmother’s potpourri and the faint, unsettling aroma of something I could never quite place, turned acrid. It was the smell of shock, of disbelief, of a world tilting on its axis. Uncle Amon, the man who had, in recent years, become the sun around which my grandmother’s universe revolved, was gone. Brutally gone. The news arrived like a physical blow, delivered in hushed, frantic