Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Exits Three
-My Aunt Betts, who never swore, unleashed a blue streak
when dying.
-Was she horribly disappointed in life?
-Quite the opposite. Laughed more than her share.
-Then, why do you suppose...?
-Became available.
...
-Randolph, the horse, found solace as we read
Kierkegaard to him.
-Did the vet recommend?
-Said it wouldn’t hurt. Being and Nothingness.
-That’s Sartre!
-What the hell’s a horse care?
...
-The professor explained a paradox as he expired.
-Were you edified?
-Mumbled too much.
-As in life. Where do you suppose lost words go, anyway?
-The air. You walk into them.
-And then act?
-Not if you can help it!
Labels: blue language, death, deathbed, horse, Kierkegaard, last words, paradox, professor, Sartre
