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Scones


Wallachie
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An elderly Irishman lay dying in his bed. While suffering the agonies of

impending death, he suddenly smelled the aroma of his favourite cheese

scones wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and

lifted himself from the bed.

Leaning against 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 here, spread out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were

dozens of his favourite cheese scones.

Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from his devoted

Irish 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 a rumpled posture. His parched lips parted, he

could almost taste the cheese scone before it was in his mouth,

seemingly bringing him back to life. The aged and withered hand trembled

on its way to the nearest scone at the edge of the table, when his hand

was suddenly smacked with a spatula by his

wife 

 "Fook off !! " she said, "they're for the funeral !!"

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