Man V. Nature: Stories

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They let me tend to my husband’s burial and settle his affairs, which means that for a few days I get to stay in my house, pretend he is away on business while I stand in the closet and smell his clothes. I cook dinners for two and throw the rest away, or overeat, depending on my mood. I make a time capsule of pictures I won’t be allowed to keep. I bury it in the yard for a new family to discover.

But once that work is done, the Placement Team orders me to pack two bags of essentials, good for any climate. They take the keys to our house, our car. A crew will come in, price it all, and a sale will be advertised; all the neighbors will come. I won’t be here for any of this, but I’ve seen it happen to others. The money will go into my dowry, and then someday, hopefully, another man will marry me.

I have a good shot at getting chosen, since I’m a good decorator and we have some pretty nice stuff to sell off and so my dowry will likely be enticing. And the car is pretty new, and in the last year I was the only one who could drive it and I kept it clean. It’s a nice car with leather seats and lots of extras. It was my husband’s promotion gift to himself, though he drove it for only a few months before illness swept him into his bed. It’s also a big family car, which will appeal to the neighbors, who all have big families. We hadn’t started our own yet. We were fretting over money, being practical. I’m lucky we didn’t. Burdened women are more difficult to place, I’m told. They separate mothers from children. I’ve heard it can be very hard on everyone. The children are like phantom limbs that ache on a mother’s body. I wouldn’t know, but I’m good at imagining.

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