Form 7C: Nature of Grievance

Form 7C arrived on its own, sliding under no door, because there were no doors, the afterlife having dispensed with doors as too optimistic. Section one asked for my name, which I knew. Section two asked for my dates, which I had to look up on the laminated card. Section three said: STATE YOUR GRIEVANCE WITH EXISTENCE. ATTACH EVIDENCE. CONTINUE ON A SEPARATE SHEET IF YOUR LIFE WAS LONG. I sat with the pen. The pen was government issue, the kind chained to a desk in a realm with no desks and no chains, which raised questions I chose not to pursue. I wrote, then crossed it out. I wrote, it was too short, then crossed that out, because the Bronze Age woman would scoff. I wrote, nobody told me it counted while it was happening. I looked at that sentence for a long time. Then I did not cross it out. The form, somewhere deep in its beige, seemed satisfied. A drawer I had not noticed opened, slightly, like an ear.