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Deaths Door

  • 25-01-2008 10:34pm
    #1
    rocky25
    Closed Accounts Posts: 1,521 ✭✭✭


    An elderly man lay dying in his bed.
    While suffering the agonies of impending death,
    He suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite scones wafting up the stairs.

    He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from the bed.
    Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom
    And with even greater effort, gripping the railing with both hands,
    He crawled downstairs.

    With laboured breath, he leaned against the door-frame, gazing into the kitchen.
    Were it not for death's agony, he would have thought himself already in heaven,
    for there, spread out upon the kitchen table were
    literally hundreds of his favourite scones.

    Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his
    devoted wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left
    this world a happy man?
    Mustering one great final effort, he threw himself
    towards the table, landing on his knees in rumpled posture.
    His aged and withered hand trembled towards a scone at the
    edge of the table, when it was suddenly smacked by his wife

    with a wooden spoon ......

    .........



    .........


    F**k off" she said, "they're for the funeral."


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