“At a time like this, too,” said Miss Treason, laying down the shamble. “This is so inconvenient. But there is no doubt.” She paused for a moment and said: “I will die the day after tomorrow. On Friday, just before half past six in the morning.”
It was an impressive statement, and did not deserve this reply: “Oh, that’s a shame, tae be missin’ the weekend like that,” said Rob Anybody. “Are ye goin’ somewhere nice?”

– on the death of Miss Treason |
Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith