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Dying's not so bad. at least i won't have to answer the telephone." Frazier Armstrong breathed deeply, which wasn't easy, since the oxygen tube stuck down her throat had rubbed it raw. "Then again, I will never have to fill out the IRS long form, buy a county sticker for my car, be burdened with insurance payments that stretch into eternity, to say nothing of my business license and the damned money I pay to the county each year on my depreciating business machines. No more mortgage payments and no more vile temptation as the doors of Tiffany's yawn at me like the very gates of Hell." She burrowed ever deeper into the hospital bed. Porthault sheets brought from home made the bed more comfortable but every time she glanced at the saccharine wallpaper, a dusty rose with tiny little bouquets, she thought, "One of us has to go."
Nestling should have made her feel better but it