A grave affair.
I have this constant fear of being buried alive, and I can relate to the Victorian author whose greatest fear was that. He would leave a note on his bedside table that read “I only look like I’m dead”, so that no one would see his sleeping body, and bury him in a cemetery. There were bells attached to the fingers of the deceased, just in case. You wouldn’t believe the number of coffins with fingernails stuck to the inside, broken away from the fingers after a desperate attempt to claw one’s way out of the box.