to die on a sunday [fiction]

Everytime the lady with too much make up from the flight company asks for a name and contact number of a person in case of a accident, she gives the details of the last guy she slept with. Most of the time that's all the information she has about them, and she will never user it again. She's happy it can be of use one last time, to fill a stupid bureaucracy, so she will give it freely.

He will be the first to know, and think about her one more time.

And because if he had asked, she would have stayed another day.