Jean-Honore Fragonard le jour

Jean-Honore Fragonard le jourJean-Honore Fragonard l'auroreJean-Honore Fragonard Cephale et ProcrisEdgar Degas DancerWilliam Beard So You Wanna Get Married
move and finishing off the celery.
Who’d have thought it?
And it suddenly dawned on the late Windle Poons that there was no such
thing as somebody else’s problem, and that just when you thought the world

strangeness. He knew from experience that the living never found out half of what was really happening, because , metaphorically. The only way was up.
He reached up, felt for the card in the dark, and pulled it free. He stuck it between his teeth.
Windle Poons braced his feet against the end of the box, pushed his hands past his head, and heaved.
The soggy loam of Ankh-Morpork moved slightly.
Windle paused out of habit to take a breath, and realised that there they were too busy being the living. The onlooker sees most of the game, he told himself. It was the living who ignored the strange and wonderful, because life was too full of the boring and mundane. But it was strange. It had things in it like screws that unscrewed themselves, and little written messages to the dead. He resolved to find out what was going on. And then . . . if Death wasn’t going to come to him, he’d go to Death. He had his rights, after all. Yeah. He’d lead the biggest missing-person hunt of all time.Windle grinned in the darkness.Missing - believed Death.Today was the first day of the rest of his life.And Ankh-Morpork lay at his feet. Wellwas no point. He pushed again. The end of the coffin splintered. Windle pulled it towards him and