Attitude, lace and a pillbox hat. Oh so Jackie Kennedy, I sigh, and look in the mirror while fastening my pearls. Tucking Kleenex in the cuff of my sweater, I nod with approval at the image I see.
A dab of perfume behind each ear--the scent I've rationed for all these years. Not noticing the rancid smell of decay, twenty-year Chanel suits me--I know. 'Death becomes you,' I want to say, but I'm much too happy--I'm going out today.
Nursing home chatter, I think as I strut. False compliments as I head for the door. Foregoing the walker, I lean on my cane. Wheel chair envy, I smirk as I pass. I'll miss the slop, at least for one meal, and savour the anticipation of an elegant feed.
I'm grateful to Joe for this invitation. At least for today, I will remember.
saplings thrive
grow into trees, surviving decades
end as firewood
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