It's Got No Place to Go

McKeany realises he has cried only once about his father's death — while his mother and brother, talking about his dad at his brother's house, both broke down together a year on. The piece sits inside the strangeness of that asymmetry and uses it as the entry point for a quiet, unprescriptive essay on grief: the way it has no obvious place to go, the way it doesn't follow timelines, and the way writing about it is one of the few ways to give it a temporary container.