Two more performances of After, Life: Saturdays at 8pm through May 1 at the Apollo Studio.
Today’s dispatch from beyond the grave comes from Michelle, who hit or was hit by Kevin in that car crash.
So there I was, all ready to pee on a stick… okay, twelve sticks… and that was going to give me the happiest news of my life. And then, my life ends. Way to go, huh?
My sister is in the exact same graveyard as I am. That’s about the only good thing about all of this. I mean, not that there’s usually a whole lot of good things about dying, but… you know what I mean. And frankly, all she really did was start hitting me. And pulling my hair.
This has absolutely been the worst week of my life. Death. Whatever.
I don’t think there’s anyone I like here. Maybe Ann. She was nice. Not much help, but nice. I guess. At least she didn’t hit me, or rip my hair out, or call me a chimp or scream at me.
Next time I die, I’m going to ask for a graveyard with a whole bunch of babies who I can raise and love as my own. That’s what the afterlife should be: A place where you can give what you really really want to give, to people who really really need it.
It’s all very confusing.