[“Imagine being a corpse.” – Zadie Smith]
There are many kinds of corpse. I expect to be one of the better sort, a sweet-smeller like some of those saints. And with eyes open, staring up at those who remain, those looming guests at my funeral. In rigor, my pointing finger will accuse them as they slink away.
Afterwards, I will have very small guests.
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Memorable Fancies 
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