Checking Out

They fished him out at noon, seagrass was draped and dragged behind, like angel hair, though green, lifelessness all dressed in Sunday suit, the firemen and cops were busy fretting, and filling in the gaps in giant notebooks. A life was lost again, reasons unknown, the cost to the community was small, the firemen were volunteers, the cops, though on a Sunday here, were all on salary, the spectators, they always come for free, and all his bills, they later learned, had been, the day before, on time and fully paid. He'd sent a payment voucher to the masons, 'all granite, with a marble top, indented, for flowers, and the lettering in green', because he had been an environmentalist.