For the short story reader. Updated every Monday.

The Short Form

“The Yellow Sugar”

William T. Vollmann


Death naturally screens itself with superstition. I remember being taken to see Fort Ticonderoga by my parents when I was eight, and my sister Angela was five, and discovering a glass case containing two children's skeletons, with the legend Twelve-Year-Old Grave. For a long time after this I dreaded becoming twelve. But there was nothing that I could do about it. I kept getting older. In point of fact, I lived past becoming twelve, and Angela died at six, so there had been nothing to worry about.

We read it in The Rainbow Stories.