The King Of 8:04PM
Copyright 1/4/12 by Raymond Daley
"The King is dead, long live the King!" the Royal Doctor makes the decree. My father is dead.
I hate to have to call him The Royal Doctor. I've known him since I was a baby, to me he's Harry Black.
Funny Uncle Harry. Harry The Ham Sandwich.
Right now I wish he'd crack a joke, especially a dirty one. Dad would have loved that, dark humour at his deathbed.
Uncle Harry draws his fingers across my fathers eyelids. He can't look at me, it's against protocol.
He has his duty. As much as he probably wants to crack that dirty joke too, he can not deviate from the set forms.
Traditions must be maintained.
Uncle Mark steps forward with the crown. He looks at me, I know what I must do.