If death
A quietly laid out funeral
In a square space
Uneven dark grey walls shroud the dead
Few observers
A skin-like fabric covers me
But you can still see my closed eyes and pale lips behind the almost transparent fabric
There were no invitations
Except for the occasional passerby or who deliberately scouted out the address
The music was broadcast from a stereo in the ceiling
It's experimental music played intermittently by stringed instruments
Occasionally interspersed with non-human voices
It plays until the electricity in the stereo runs out
Most of the visitors are silent
No bouquets of flowers
No rhetoric
No one asks why they died
As for the outside world
Whether or not the world outside has changed in the slightest as a result of this death
Is not a matter of concern for the dead