June 6th, 2005

Puddle Graphic

I got this in the mail the other day and think it's a good day to share it.

Stan was dying. His wife, Esther, was maintaining a vigil by his side. She held his fragile hand, tears running down her face. Her praying roused him from his slumber; He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly.

"Esther my darling" he whispered.

"Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk."

He was insistent. "Esther," he said in his tired voice, "I have something that I must confess."

There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping Esther, "Everything's all right, go to sleep."

"No, no. I must die in peace, Esther. I ... I slept with your sister, your best friend, her best
friend, and your mother!"

I know, sweetheart," whispered Esther, "let the poison work."
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