I’ve been lying on my back in this coffin for three days now. I hate lying on my back. The coffin’s in a spare room at my sister’s house. Can’t feel a thing of course but I can still see and hear. My sister keeps “coming for a look”. She’s forever shutting my eyes. Last thing I heard her say was, “He keeps opening his eyes. It’s so grotesque having a dead person stare back at you.” Little does she know.
I dare say soon they’ll be putting the lid on permanently. That’ll be a relief. I’m tired of people “coming for a look”. Just yesterday my old Aunt Madge called in and said while peering into the coffin, “He never did much with his life, did he?” To which Uncle Vernon added, “In some ways it’s a mercy he’s dead. Can’t wait to get my hands on all that money though.”
Just an hour or so ago, I heard Milly Blinkers (she’s a cousin – or was) say, “They reckon he had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it. I suppose he didn’t leave a will?” She’s always been money-grabbing, that Milly cousin. Well, for the record I did leave a will, and Milly’s not getting a penny. I was dying to say that out loud to her, but corpses can’t breathe or move so that put an end to that.
I have no idea why my accountant needed to call in before the funeral. He had a look at me and said to my sister, “We’ll talk things over in the next room.” I dare say he was hoping to get a sizeable chunk of my savings. As my late mother used to say, “It never takes long for the vultures to come out of the woodwork.” She was always mixing her metaphors – my mother.
Here they come now to put the lid on. They’re all giving the undertaker a hand. Oh such a tearful moment! That’ll be all from me for now – in fact, forever. It’s a shame I don’t have a few minutes more. I’d die wanting to hear their reaction when they discover there’s not a penny in my bank account.