It was officially the last day of his life.
It had started much like any other day. A quick jog around the park, stopping briefly for his daily chat with that woman with the ugly dog. Back home he had allowed himself an extra few minutes in the shower, he knew it was going to be a hectic day. He’d arranged for Edith, the lady who cleaned for him, to come in especially early. He wanted everywhere to be looking at its best. The caterers were due to arrive late morning. He hoped he’d taken into account the varying dietary needs of his many guests.
Then there was that damn speech. He wasn’t looking forward to that bit of the proceedings at all. Public speaking had never been a strength of his. He’d been over the thing a hundred times but was still frightened he may have inadvertently missed someone off the list of people he needed to thank.
As soon as the speech was over he’d have a short time to mingle. A few last goodbyes to some of his closest friends, then it would be time to leave. The company he’d hired to carry out the task had come highly recommended and prided themselves on being discreet. At the appropriate time a car would be waiting in the drive and he would quietly slip away.
The party would continue and he would be driven to the local facility where his life would be terminated – at precisely 9.43pm. He had been assured that the process would be both quick and painless. Once he was officially declared dead the authorities would allow a new baby to be born.
As the party at his house drew to an end, somewhere else in the city, another party would be beginning, welcoming the new arrival.