The Pinch | VOL. 40 | No. 1 | Spring 2020
The state in which they found it was, Eunice suspected, just as her cousin had left it: dresser drawers hanging open, coughing t-shirts. A desk with maps and books and plastic knickknacks. Glow-in-the-dark stars pricking the ceiling. A defunct Laval lamp, the neon wax chunking the bottom.
Meg was all big eyes and splotched cheeks as she suggested to Eunice they try to bring back Roland Hayes.
"It can't hurt," she said. "He's already dead."