No one cares for the woman, so she must somehow care for herself, she must take something, with plenty of alcohol, a wonderful red wine, vino classico something, that's healthy. Even a glass a day increases life expectancy. But no, that would really not have been necessary! First the woman dresses nicely and does her hair once more in the proper sequence, so, now lipstick, eye shadow, mascara. Go to the toilet, only then the silk panties, matching the chemise, which we're already wearing and which we bought at the same time. Before we admit defeat, we spend a lot of money on pretty underwear. Even women who resemble a sheer rock face, because one can't land on them, are turned soft as laundry in the hands of the mighty fabric softener which pours a small capful into the final wash (the only one to be really gentle to us!). If we cap it all and put on this little hat, then we really do look silly, then the stuff runs down over our ears. Aha: Now for once you look at yourself with your empty eyes, and you don't like what you see? Why don't you like it? Well I think, I think the decision of this woman, who is merely groping for life, yes, this woman here, she's just got her fingers burnt again!, the decision was the right one. Where is the note, on which we wrote down everything ourselves, where is the little tube, which we stole from our best friend who had an epileptic dog, which is dead now too, from the cabinet in the bathroom? We don't need to ask, because we've already known it all the time. The drug is phenobarbitone and in pure form, whereby the veterinary drug supplier, R. amp; Go. in V, smoothly circumvents the law on addictive substances, quite legally incidentally, well, not quite, in the hands of an experienced vet this drug can blossom and do an animal good, in our hands it can only turn to ashes, which isn't hard, every cigarette can do the same; the theft was not legal, no, it was permissible theft for immediate consumption, we're not going to make ourselves punishable after death, since it will have become completely unnecessary! A little tube of tablets is raised to the mouth and the contents are swallowed one after the other, the alcohol runs cheerfully and comfortingly, nono, it doesn't hurt, no need to worry, alongside and snaps at the funny round things, sliding down the throat there, hurrah. Why is life suddenly so cheerful? We always have to stop when it's nicest, says a child, who appears in the doorway and goes to the piano, also feeling her way, but she will surely hit the right keys, otherwise there'll be trouble. Otherwise there'll be trouble. Yes, indeed, you heard: Trouble! Unsatisfactory. Favorite music is heard. If one really wants to go, one can make everything nice and comfortable for oneself, can't one? The shoes should fit, because it's a long way. Such a bonne vivante, we wouldn't have thought it of her, suddenly she's like a rubber stamp, which would like to press itself down somewhere, we've chosen this point in time, of all times, when we can't stand up anymore, in order to look at our own impressions from a distance. So something is left of us after all, how nice. Well, then we'll just have to make an impression here, where we're lying down, it doesn't matter: That was not only THE man, that is THE man, he will be the man for the rest of my life, the only man I really love, I would always be comparing all other men to him. He shall also get the whole of my earthly possessions, in particular this house and everything in it, no, not me, he can have me accompanied out first, the funeral is already paid for, the grave is ready. He gets what remains, at least I have got this beautiful new silk dress, this shining red tint in my hair and in this glass, both of which cost me a bit, perhaps he will resent these expenses, everything already belongs to him; my best black pumps, although I have already worn them a couple of times, and which are perhaps familiar to the audience at concerts or the opera, to one or two among you, ladies and gentlemen, if you, like me, who is quickly embarrassed by something, have looked disconcertedly at the floor, because the horn-player has fluffed his entrance. That's how I would like to fall to the floor, like a wrongly played note, but I'm already lying in bed and cannot get up. I won't get out of it again. I have locked up my telephone, who knows what I would have got up to otherwise. I would perhaps, with a foolish smile and apologetic words, have called emergency, but the emergency will soon be over anyway. I would injure myself, if I lost the beat and went my own way, in order, just look at me, here I am, shall I swallow a switched-on light bulb, so that you see me at last? Then I would rather swallow this all-purpose adhesive, which would still be detected in my bone marrow in thirty years' time, if someone went to the bother of taking a closer look there, of all places. But no one ever wanted to get to the bottom of me anyway, which, besides, is no deeper than a footbath. No one there, who would open my mouth and remove the poisonous little pieces, an unusual procedure, but one sometimes used for resuscitation. The woman. She doesn't look like a corpse, only like someone sleeping, I would say, if something like that existed, like a sleeping corpse, rather attractive in fact after death, which smooths the features, only a holy bleeding to death would get as many points. But then one would have a blue pallor or something. Soon there won't be another wake-up phase, since there will be no more waking up. So, now this is it. The eyes cannot be opened anymore, so that someone who is not particularly interested can try to read something in them. Now you know why, in the world of fairy tales and legends, the long-time sleep of characters so often turns out to be a tricky, secretive kind of staying alive, it's down to appearance. We have the choice: fall down dead, fall down in a faint, pretend to be dead, or be dead. No need to worry, she's only sleeping, the old maid, without a kiss of assent, but with the attested assent in the envelope on the pillow beside her. She proudly pinned her hopes on her property, the mother's child, and she was right, the property may leave now. No one will be waiting at the door, watch in hand, for it to come home. It can also, as far as I'm concerned, come into other hands, because even property sometimes needs a bit of variety. A shudder passes through the woman, I call her by her name one last time, oh, it's slipped my mind, perhaps I never knew it, it's not written down here, is it?, I was merely notified by her, to write this down. Careful, sleep will come now, be quiet, I'm still speaking, sleep is knocking at this door, immediately goes purposefully up to the brain stem, scrambles further, in order first of all to create favorable physiological conditions for itself. Come sweet sleep, walk on in. When all is silent and only one speaks, it's called a teaching period, any volunteers? No one? Well, then chemistry will speak in my place, I don't mind, and it says breathing flat to arrested, circulation weak to collapsed (temperature below normal and deterioration of kidney activity to the point of anuria, hence the name Barbara anuria). Let's leave it at that. Where she's lying we no longer have to concern ourselves with the Holzer blisters, an all too late and somewhat unsuccessful wedding dress, also the signs of the "dying heart" will have been superseded in the ECG by the dead heart. There was no dependency on the drug, would also be very unusual today, these drugs have gone right out of fashion. There can be no reason whatsoever which would be compelling enough to prescribe such drugs to pregnant women, please don't do it, if you are a doctor. Who's compelling whom. One can't even compel someone to wear a skirt instead of trousers. A woman sinks to her own feet, but is prevented from doing so by her bed, the dress too is not permitted to fall in a forward way. This person will be forwarded, the address is already written out, one can still put one's finger on the best of her, it is brick, is glass, concrete, steel, and plaster. No more than that. Ridiculous, that the birds should chirp or that one person should lead another to his mouth and then the latter still doesn't find the entrance.