The funeral

“How was your funeral?” she asked. She had meant “THE funeral”; I’m fairly sure I’m not dead.

Two days ago I wore a black tie with my white shirt; it had just felt like a black tie with a white shirt kind of day. She looked at me and realised I was 15% less scruffy-looking than I generally appear. Noting the tie she had asked if I had a job interview. “LOL”.

I sat stoney-faced and replied, “I have a funeral to go to”.

“Oh.”

My day went uninterrupted after that.

“How was your funeral?” she asked this morning.

“Dead good” I replied.

“Oh.”

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