From: B.B.
Jake was dying. His wife, Becky, was maintaining a vigil by his side. She
held his fragile hand in the weak light, tears running down her face. Her
praying woke him from his slumber. He looked up, pale lips moving slightly.
"Becky my darling," he whispered.
"Hush my love," she said. "Rest, don't talk."
He was insistent. "Becky," he said in his tired voice, "I have something
that I must confess."
"There's nothing to confess," replied the weeping Becky, "everything's all
right, go to sleep now."
"No, no. I must die in peace, Becky. I... I slept with your sister, your
best friend, her best friend and your mother."
"I know sweet one" whispered Becky, "let the poison work."
----- Tamara P Duvall Lexington, Virginia, USA Formerly of Warsaw, Poland http://lorien.emufarm.org/~tpd/
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