The Thursday before my death began much the same way Wednesday had. Or Tuesday and Monday, for that matter. Not just the Monday through Wednesdays before I died, you understand, but Mondays and Wednesdays in general. Outside of the Summer Holidays, of course.
If I'd been killed during the summer term, between school years, then I would have been very upset. Not that it wasn't upsetting, being killed. It was. I was.
Upset, that is.
And killed.
I do not know this person yet. I hope to find time for the rest of the story...
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