- Joined
- Dec 16, 2004
- Location
- Palm Bay Florida
A Scottish Love Story
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering
the agonies of his death, he suddenly smells
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, gripping the wall, he slowly makes it to the kitchen.
There piled on a tray are his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his
devoted Scottish 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.’
An elderly man lay dying in his bed. While suffering
the agonies of his death, he suddenly smells
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, gripping the wall, he slowly makes it to the kitchen.
There piled on a tray are his favourite scones.
Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his
devoted Scottish 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.’
