(We are pleased to run the work of Sam Kandej or Iran for today and tomorrow. He is a special person indeed–the Eds.)

The Burial of Angel by Sam Kandej I’ll never forget June 3, 2026–the day Angel’s body was found on the main road. Apparently, she was hit by a car or something, but there were no witnesses. By noon, word had spread, and everyone in the village knew that our beloved three-month-old kitten was no longer among us. “I can’t believe it. Angel was playing in front of my shop around ten. She was so happy, chasing butterflies here and there. I can’t believe her gorgeous brown eyes are closed forever,” Mr. Thomson told me when I asked him whether we should dump the poor thing or do something more respectful. “Normally, they dump dead cats, but Angel wasn’t just any cat. She became everyone’s sweetheart in a very short time. I don’t feel good about dumping her. How about burying her somewhere near the woods?” Mr. Thomson suggested. I immediately agreed and left the shop to let anyone who might have been interested know about the burial that afternoon. Almost all the elderly villagers said yes, perhaps because they had nothing else to do or perhaps because they themselves were getting close to death. Natasha, a seven-year-old girl who had played with Angel several times, showed up with her mother, too. In total, including me, there were thirteen people standing silently around our lifeless Angel. “We should say something, shouldn’t we?” Natasha said to her mom. “What, dear? What should we say?” “Something nice. I saw that in Harry Potter. When Aragog died, Professor Slughorn said something that I don’t remember now.” Natasha’s mom looked around, and her eyes met mine. Without a word, she indicated that it was my responsibility to say something. Something nice? I looked at the sky first. It was starting to drizzle. I remembered the day I lost my five-year-old daughter and my lovely spouse in that damn accident. The image of my little Summer laughing while chasing butterflies made my heart ache. “I do believe in God and life after death for humans. I’m a religious man. You all know that. But I don’t believe animals will have an afterlife. For them, this world is all there is,” I started my eulogy. “You know, I believe God created us to torture us. It seems that He enjoys it. Why should an innocent…” “What the hell are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?” Mrs. Smith, an eighty-four-year-old woman whom everyone called Aunt Smith, shouted at me. I felt raindrops on my hand and then on my nose. It was getting colder, and I was shivering slightly. “Where was God when my Summer perished? Where was God when this poor kitten was hit by an irresponsible driver? Where is God when a child dies of cancer?” I looked around. Everyone’s mouths were open in shock, especially Natasha’s mom. Only Mr. Walker was nodding in agreement since he was an atheist. “Listen, we all know you have suffered, but…” Mrs. Smith tried to calm me. “But what? Am I insulting God? Am I a jerk now? Just tell me, please. Why does life have to be this hard? Why does it have to be this heartbreaking?” I could no longer stop it. My eyes filled with tears, and the harder I tried to hold them back, the less possible it seemed. The rain helped wash them away, but I couldn’t hide them. I felt ashamed of myself, knowing that Natasha was standing there, watching me fall apart. “Let’s bury the cat,” Mr. Thomson urged everyone to wrap up the funeral. “Let me do it. Please. For God’s sake.” I was crying as I walked toward Angel. I hugged her. Kissed her once, twice, three times. Hugged her tightly for a minute or two. I hadn’t been brave enough to go to my own daughter’s funeral. I stayed at home, unable to face the darkness. I put Angel in her small grave, patted her gently, and said goodbye.

Sam Kandej