MY BRILLIANT FUNERAL by Femke Withag

I was the prettiest corpse in the room, even if I say so myself. Well, to be fair, I was the only corpse in the room. At my explicit wish, and there had been several, I was dressed in my red tweed Chanel. I also wore the pearl necklace and my green alligator flats. 

I was the prettiest corpse in the room, even if I say so myself. Well, to be fair, I was the only corpse in the room. At my explicit wish, and there had been several, I was dressed in my red tweed Chanel. I also wore the pearl necklace and my green alligator flats. 

Jan was observing my red lips and favourite silver wig from a safe distance. 

‘I have to admit, her stylist did a great job,’ she said to Vyvyan, who had already poured himself a cup of tea and was eating a chocolate brownie. 

‘Is that a book in her hands?’ Her brother always talked with his mouth full. 

‘The Brothers Karamazov, by Dostoevsky.’ Jan tried to sound knowledgeable. As if she’d ever read any Russian literature. 

‘I think her hands should be in prayer position,’ Vyvyan mumbled disapprovingly. 

‘Oh well, you know Auntie. Always wanted to do things her way.’

I agreed with Jan. I’d made sure everything looked perfect for my Grand Exit.

‘Auntie looks a bit green, don’t you think?’ My favourite nephew, Leslie, made his entrance, wearing kitchen gloves in which he held a pair of scissors. 

‘What on earth are you doing?’ Vyvyan said to his younger brother, who was walking over to me.

‘I’m taking the pearls,’ Leslie said decisively. 

‘What?’ 

‘They’re worth nothing under the ground.’

Vyvyan slurped his tea, while Jan turned around to check the flower arrangement.

‘Don’t worry,’ Leslie said, ‘you’ll get your share.’

He took a deep breath and slowly bent over my body. His hands moved towards my neck. He hesitated for just a second, then clenched his teeth, put the metal blade against my skin and – snip! Slowly the string of pearls was pulled away from my coffin.

‘Look at us, we’re like vultures cleaning up a carcass,’ Vyvyan said. 

‘Well, it runs in the blood, I guess,’ Leslie replied. ‘She stole these pearls from her best friend, last year. She told me so herself.’

‘The friend that suddenly died last Christmas?’ Jan sounded shocked. ‘I thought she had left them to Auntie.’

‘No, Auntie took them,’ said Leslie. ‘She was no saint!’

And I proved him right, there at that very moment. A foul stench filled the room.

‘Is that the flowers?’ Vyvyan frowned.

‘Is it her perfume?’ Jan sniffed.

‘Oh, my God!’ Leslie laughed out loud. ‘Naughty Auntie! She just pulled a Father Zosima on us.’

‘A Father Zosima?’ Vyvyan stared at him in astonishment.

‘What does that mean?’ Jan was already at the door, covering her nose.

‘It means, my dears, that I did read The Brothers Karamazov,’ Leslie said. ‘It’s Auntie’s way of telling us we’d better close the lid. Pronto!’

Copyright story and artwork, Femke Withag, 2021

Instagram: @femke.withag