Over Two Weeks, Many People Die

One of my good friends and colleagues was in a terrible car accident. (He is recovering.)

Then an editor's boyfriend died.

Then another editor’s mother.

And now our Albanian cleaning man’s mother.

We have been joking we work on top of an Indian burial ground.

“But this is the life,” the Albanian’s man’s brother-in-law, who is filling in during his absence, just told me. “This is the life. I wish it were a better life, but it is not.”

No, it is not.