(Yes that Alice...what other Alice would I possibly be talking about?...)

It was a beautiful day. The sky was blue. The trees were covered in the fresh greens of spring. The air was thick with the perfume of budding flowers. And a soft breeze blanketed all of creation before her. And Alice thought to herself, "What a lovely day for one to die upon." For how could death possibly be dismal on a day as glorious as this? And so Alice, setting good advice aside, did what she ought not to have done and drank from that vial that may or may not have been poison.

And so, indeed she did die, and most dismally, on that most delightful of days.  And all thought it a great tragedy, especially as the clear sky cried rain.