Strangers,
hiring.

Drop one anonymous bouquet of white peonies at my mother's grave every Tuesday for six months

She loved peonies. She also disowned me in 2012. We never spoke again. I'm not ready to visit. You go. Photograph the bouquet against the headstone. Don't read the inscription out loud. Don't tell me what it says. Twenty-six deliveries. I prepay all of them, today.