"We laid our Econolodge bedspreads over the dewy grass of the cemetery, smoking joints and trying to imagine a life without our mother. If there was a heaven, we probably shouldn't expect to find her there. Neither did she deserve to roam the fiery tar pits of hell, surrounded for all eternity by the same shitheads who brought us strip malls and theme restaurants. There must exist some middle ground, a place where one is tortured on a daily basis but still allowed a few moments of pleasure, taken wherever one could find it.
Ashes from Naked, pp. 248-249
By David Sedaris
Published 1997
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