Maiki by Kingi McKinnon

This must be the most painful short story I've ever read. The tragedy is close and intense and no words are wasted on searching for morals or reasons. There's a closure of sorts, but it's not the focus of the story. The loss of a person, a good young person, for no apparent reason is merely told without being explored; the story offers little comfort to the reader but instead allows us to share the narrator's pain in a very real way. If it's not in some way true, I cannot imagine why it was written. If it is true then I hope that someone, somewhere, feels better for it having been written.