Nookster
07-06-2008, 10:03 AM
An elderley man lay dying in his bed close to death, when he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favorite scones from downstairs. He gathered his remaining strength and lifted himself from his bed.
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom and with great effort gripped the handrail and and crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath whilst leaning against the door frame he gazed into the kitchen. Were it not for deaths agony he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out before his eyes were literally hundreds of his favorite scones.
Was it heaven? or was it the final act of love from his devoted Irish wife of sixty years seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
With great effort he threw himself towards the table landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table when it was suddenley smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon........
****off she said, 'They're for the funeral!!!!!!!'
Leaning on the wall, he slowly made his way out of the bedroom and with great effort gripped the handrail and and crawled downstairs.
With laboured breath whilst leaning against the door frame he gazed into the kitchen. Were it not for deaths agony he would have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread out before his eyes were literally hundreds of his favorite scones.
Was it heaven? or was it the final act of love from his devoted Irish wife of sixty years seeing to it that he left this world a happy man?
With great effort he threw himself towards the table landing on his knees in a crumpled posture. His withered hand trembled towards a scone at the edge of the table when it was suddenley smacked by his wife with a wooden spoon........
****off she said, 'They're for the funeral!!!!!!!'