I don’t know what to wear. What should one wear to die? If I’m too dressed up when they find me people might wonder why, but it feels like I should wear something special. I only get to do this once.
Of course, very few people will see me: Kate perhaps, probably some EMT’s, neighbors. Eventually whatever I’m wearing will be removed (possibly even unceremoniously cut off). Before that my bowels will likely have let loose, which would override any finely-tuned image I was trying to convey with my outfit.
Still, it seems like I should put some thought into what I will be wearing.
I have never been an extravagantly stylish woman, but I do pay attention to what I wear. I care about looking reasonably good. I wear flattering things. I like to look nice, and I like to dress up for special occasions. My death should count as a special occasion shouldn’t it?
But for special occasions I usually wear nice dresses with high heels and fancy jewelry. I do my hair and makeup. It would seem odd if I were all done up like that when I was found dead alone at home. It would seem suspicious. On the other hand I don’t want my last impression on the world to be in a worn out t-shirt and yoga pants.
It will be Halloween. Maybe I should wear a costume.
“She died as she lived…as Batman.”
Sadly I fear no one but me would find that funny, and I won’t be able to appreciate it. Annie would be mortified.
No, I’ll have to wear something else, but what? I have less than a week to figure that out.
What happens next? Read the next part of the story here.