2004 - Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science

to be established and become a federal-fundedorganization.My grandparents strongly opposed theSession and refused to donate samples to harvestspare parts. My grandmother said theSession was sending mankind into a regressionof humanity, and sooner or later we’d all beempty shells living infinite, meaningless lives;we’d be as miserable as the gods. Maybe shewas exaggerating. Or maybe not.It always gave my mother chills to go to thehospital, though she was never outwardlyagainst the Session. She never said that,though; her pride would never permit it. I suspectedit when my grandmother died. Mymother avoided the white building as much asshe could. And since Grandmother had nospare parts, that made it easier for her.But bits of my grandmother were in mymother still. I knew she didn’t like the ways ofthe Session, how they cheapened life to nothingby their “advancements in technology.” Herpride, though, just let you think she didn’t likethe bills. But she went through the routine ofdonating and cataloging replacements in caseof an accident for her and the rest of my family.We stopped at a general station to take thehospital tram. Silently, we rode to the anodynebuilding.We walked inside and rode up to a floorlabeled “Deceased In Waiting.” My motherwalked confidently to the secretary’s desk, heranxiety dissolved.The secretary wore a long, black robe buttonedin a single row in the front and straight,loose white pants. Her long hair was in a braidand stacked on top of her head with a diamondof cloth covering it, one of its pointsresting in the center of her forehead.“Jaye Harrison,” my mother said, the linesreturning to her face.“Let me check the catalog,” the womansaid robotically.My mother and I waited as she pulled out aVertigoPhotographFirst Place,PhotographyCompetitionKyle DohertyS V3 1