Today I read Kenneth Schneyer’s short story, “Winding Sheets” and absolutely loved it.
The circumstances draw you in completely and the characterization is so good that I felt I as if I were standing next to the “washer of the dead,” just as confused and nervous as they were.
The idea of buried (collective?) memories is so intertwined with the history of storytelling that I’m not sure one isn’t just an explanation of the other. As I finished reading, I felt a real surge of excitement about how the opportunities for change are often right in front of you, if you look.