A Barometer of the Goodwill Out There

Everybody loved Evan. Why wouldn’t they?

After our accident, I became The Twin Who Lived.

I appreciated him more than anyone, except Mom. He had amazing achievements. People thought I resented him? Nothing of the kind. We split duties: him as a leading scholar, me as the regular guy. We always kept the lines open.

I awoke, climbed out of a destroyed Chevrolet. Fire got him, the gas tank.

Then I heard, reheard it said, “Tragic, but if only one twin survived…”

A terrible secret we keep from kids: some people find it too expensive to just wish you well.

From Guest Contributor Todd Mercer

Todd writes fiction and poetry in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and he loves this life.