………….

“We are gathered here today because Dorian couldn’t stay alive,” the priest said, glaring at the coffin. Yes, you heard me right, a priest. One who clearly wasn’t thrilled about officiating ‘this’ sort of funeral. But that was Dorian for you, always testing patience, even in death.

The mourners shuffled, unsure whether to bow their heads or nod in agreement. After all, he had survived plagues, wars, and three wives. Everyone thought he’d outlast us all. But death, as ever, follows no script.