"Amanda Widdershins, you are free to go." Hah, she thought, on a white plastic chair with metal legs. What friends did she have in this city of concrete and asphalt and glass? Not that she needed friends but those she could take her time killing if she had to. Won't that be a friendly surprise. At the moment she needed one & she didn't have one. So the next best thing was to make a new friend. Where did one find new friends in this city of the dead? I headed down to the nearest morgue. It was closer than I had thought & I was right. The air of desperation was palpable. Within seconds I was surrounded by the undead denizens of the morgue and within minutes my datebook was filled with engagements until next May. How could I have known that I would find the sense of community and acceptance I had been searching for in of all places, the morgue. Just wait until I told those idiots over at the nursing home. Those same idiots who kept telling me to take my pills, watch my blood pressure & blahblahblahblahblah. These people - here at the morgue - were like me: quiet. They get me, they really do. And the morgue is so serene. I like to lie down on an embalming table and just soak in the cool silence. It is a good place for a nap. The metal is so jarring at first but then it becomes oddly refreshing. What's more refreshing is that dead people don't feel the need to talk all the time. Not that I don't sometimes imagine them Doing like the Grateful Dead did when celebrating the Solstices. The Deadheads were oblivious to the fact Jerry Garcia was actually dead. He made a great vampire, though! Ben and Jerry's are even making a new ice cream flavor for him, calling it Cherry Garcia with fangs *includes tiny bits of real fang!* Early reviews aren't looking good, however.



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