I remember seeing her. The last time I saw her. She was dancing in the front yard; had a stick with a flag attached to it. It was silver and purple. Shiny. She’d jumped up in the air and landed, doing the splits. Her hair was blonde, he smiled. And she was wearing this one-piece suit that glittered in gold. Like a majorette or something. Marching up and down the yard. People honked as they drove by. Boys whistled, ran his hand through his greasy hair. Seems like years ago. I don’t know how long, he lit a cigarette. Folks miss her. I miss her. It’s a shame what happened. I didn’t mean to. Things just got out of control. Next thing, she was dead. I woke up beside her. There. In the front yard. Traffic going by. Nighttime. No more honking.