“It seems ridiculous to suppose the dead miss anything. If you are a grown man when you read
this–it is my intention for this letter that you will read it then–I’ll have been gone a long
time. I’ll know most of what there is to know about being dead, but I’ll probably keep it
to myself. That seems to be the way of things.”
~Marilyn Robinson, taken from the novel, ‘Gilead’
Even though the city limits sign boasts a population of 37, it’s clear to me that everyone in Gilead, NE has been dead for a long time. Still, standing in the fading light that accompanies the late afternoons of spring, it has been my experience that there’s usually something that travels on the wind–a whisper, a memory, a scent.
Something.
But not here.
It’s just silent.
An abandoned homestead sits lifeless on the tall grass prairie, Gilead, NE
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