"You can cremate her if you want. Save yourself some money."
Hunt turned on him. "That would be utterly improper. Fire mustn't touch her. It is proper that she is laid in the ground in accordance with her profound wishes."
James felt his face flushing after the Undertaker's ticking off. Then the anger kicked in. "She's dead. It's not like she's going to know."
"The only absence of knowledge is your own, Mr Guest. Now good day."
Do the dead find rest? Sometimes, but not in the way you might think!
This Greyhart Press eBook is a short story, a perfect length to enjoy on your lunch break, or to complement a drink in your favorite coffee house. Be warned, though, you won't want to be on your own after you've read this story. Especially if you can smell parma violets!