'What To Do When Muriel Dies' by Alison C Wassell

Cremate her with minimal fuss. Ensure mourners, should there be any, wear black and are suitably solemn. Play no mawkish pop songs.  Avoid the phrase ‘It’s what she would have wanted.’ What Muriel would have wanted was not to be dead.

Make free and frequent use of the word ‘dead’. Muriel will not have slipped away into another room, neither will she have passed on, having nowhere to pass on to. Nobody will have lost her. She will not have been left forgotten in a bag for life at the bus station.

Prevent some second cousin several times removed from delivering a eulogy extolling Muriel’s years of service at the library, because this is all the second cousin several times removed knows about Muriel. For the record, Muriel never worked in a library.

Collect her ashes at your earliest convenience and deliver them to the address supplied at the bottom of the page. Say Muriel sent you. Allow them to work their magic.

On a clear night, take what they give you to the highest point in town. Light the touch paper and retire.

Let Muriel have her moment. Let one almighty bang bring people to their windows. Let Muriel’s remains explode into intricate patterns in the sky. Let her hometown be lit by a flash of perfect, unexpected beauty. Let sleepy residents rub their eyes and ask

      ‘What was that?’

Just smile and tell them, in your head,

       ‘That was Muriel.’