I wonder what happens on a date with Death? Some talk about a white light or a tunnel. Imagine it. Perfect brightness, like looking into the sun. But my mind doesn’t work that way. It always picks and picks and looks and picks and what if the tunnel is black? What if it has beady red eyes? What if it has long sharp teeth? What if it has been waiting all this time to eat me alive so that other things can then eat me too? A girl is a haunted house - the horror of being a woman.