Right after the funeral, she told me that the moment her mother drew her last breath seven angels flew out the window beside the deathbed.
The next time she told me the story it was only five angels. Another telling of the story at an even later date bumped the number of angels flying out the window back up to six, but the next time there were only three angels flying out the window.
Then there was just one, but it was gigantic and seemed to be more of a bright, white light than an angel.
Finally, in a dark movie cinema, as the credits were rolling on the screen, she whispered to me that the moment her mother died a demon slithered beneath the bed, leaving burn marks on the concrete floor of the insane asylum and filling the room with the unholy stench of sulfur.
K.M. Sheets lives on the Gulf Coast. By day she directs activities in an assisted living facility. At night and on weekends she types.