The topic came up in the car tonight. But it’s not the first time we discussed this. With boy being 11 years older than me, we’ve discussed who might die first. I think he will. Because he’s old. He says I will. Because I stress out too much.
And in the car he mentioned my death, and I cut him off to correct him. “My death will be spectacularly dramatic.” I went on to describe it as a car wreck, while on my way to the hospital where I work. Hit by some driver that has no respect for life or humanity.
Boy looked over to me and said “you’re joking, right?”
“No, there will probably be a lot of blood.”
“Because I’m writing a story and in it that is exactly how you die.”