How to be Dead
Testimony and a Neighbour's Testimony)
by Michael S.
How selfish it
was of my husband to show off! Why, of all the
bad habits to fall into, he chose death I shall
never know. And did he seem at all afraid or
ashamed? Of course not. He never did think about
my feelings, like Richard does. And so, as he
says, death has parted us.
of my way, dearly departed husband. You are worse
to me dead than alive, if ever that were possible!"
following me like some kind of overbearing puppy.
Disgusting. Why cant he take the afterlife
with good spirits? He claims he does not know how
to die properly. Excuses! And that is my fault
Let me explain,
I am not a bad person. How much did that idiot
tell you about our lives? Nothing? How convenient
of him. Gordon (I hope he introduced himself at
least) is a self-confessed womaniser and possible
maneater as well, although my suspicions in that
regard were never convincingly proved. He drinks,
and not just in the "drinks-with-the-mates"
zone, or the "drinks-when-the-football-is-on"
time. I mean proper alcoholism. He never use to
be like this, but then he got married. Mum did
say that marriage was often the worst thing to
happen to some men. I know of at least two
extramarital affairs Gordon has had and openly
confessed to. Alas, I cannot confirm the affair
with the rent boy, as the pictures were
inconclusive. He also had an abusive temperament.
He never quite laid a hand on me (you know what I
mean!) but would make snide remarks about my
weight and corsets. Hurtful stuff. Why could he
not just say I looked nice, once in a while?
So, if he
tries to paint himself as the lonely hero,
remember he isnt, and he brought it
upon himself. I needed someone to love me for me,
instead of provider of drinks (and casual sex).
Richard provides that, and of course I provide
the prior two.
stalker of a dead husband is scaring me. I am off
to get Richard. But his damned dog will get in my
way. Do that again and I shall kick you.
Short Testimony of a Next Door Neighbour:
prefer to think of it as living in sin. Nit
picking, me? I am afraid I can add little to your
story, only to say I found Lisa standing in my
doorway around 9pm on the night in question. That
idiot dog of mine got in the way, so I gave it a
good kick. She was mumbling some quaint ramblings
about her husband Gordon, taunting her from
beyond the grave. In some state, she was. I let
her stay the night, and in the morning we
searched the house but there was no sign of
Gordon. Then, come the afternoon, came that call,
and you know the rest - Gordon Divers dead, shot
by unknown assailant. There is no proper proof to
say he returned in any sort of supernatural guise.
Lisa's visions? Female intuition perhaps? All I
know is that living or dead, I have not seen
Gordon Divers since that event. And personally I
am glad of it. As for this accusation that I was
spotted polishing my hunting rifle in the grounds
of Gordon work at the time
strenuously deny any such claims! And I am an
Do I have any
regrets over my actions? One. I do miss my dog.