Antonietta Losito
Mottola, Italy

Antediluvian

As his mind deteriorates and his memory shrinks, my uncle, a born-again Christian, prays each day. One day he remembers I am his favorite niece. "The Earth is evil, but we don't need to grieve for it," he tells me. "We must build another Ark and save the animals and some human beings." He begins listing people he's known, including some he never could stomach. Then he gives me a piece of paper, a drawing of a rectangular box with a sloping roof. He looks at me severely: "Come, we've got work to do. We are running out of time."

rainy days
everything old
is new again