| Humor Fiction posted March 4, 2020 |
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Let the truth be not told!
Death by Cliche
by Elizabeth Emerald
The author has placed a warning on this post for language.
The author has placed a warning on this post for sexual content.
Sandra (Brooks) Moore, 68, with her loving family by her side, passed peacefully into the arms of Jesus, on November 18, after a courageous four-year battle with cancer. Sandra was the beloved wife of John Moore, with whom she shared 46 precious years of marriage. She was the devoted mother of Joseph Moore and Linda Darrow, and the loving "Granny Sandy" to Daniel, Paul, and Lauren. Sandra was the cherished sister of Robert Brooks and Marlene Devlin. She is also survived by many loving nieces and nephews.
**************************************************************
It's a wrap--just in the nick of time to make the "Melrose Weekly's" Tuesday deadline. In case you're curious as to the workings of the editing process, note the minor deviations from the original, non-fiction, version:
Sandra (who-wished-the-hell-she-still-were-Brooks) Moore, 68, died alone, in agony, on November 18, after four torturous years spent cursing God and wailing for death to release her.
For 46 miserable years, Sandra was the grossly neglected wife of John "Foul-Mouth" Moore, a boorish, narcissistic drunk, who suffered from--rather, Sandra suffered from his--severe case of WDD (Wandering Dick Disorder). Indeed, John--in the hope of securing a helping hand amongst the ladies so eager to offer consolation at his tragic loss--couldn't even keep it in his pants at the funeral reception.
As for Sandra's kids: Joe would call faithfully every Sunday morning (requesting "refreshment," having run out of money after his Saturday-night bender) and Linda would call religiously every Saturday morning (to make arrangements for date-night, now that her mother-in-law refused to babysit the three "bratsketeers," who were as outrageously disrespectful to her as they were to "Granny Sandy").
Regarding the siblings who so cherished Sandra: Robert missed the funeral because he didn't know--probably still doesn't--that Sandra died. Marlene, on the other hand, rushed to the house minutes after she got the news, so as to paw through Sandra's jewelry box before the rest of the vultures could come a'pluckin'.
Let's not forget the many loving nieces and nephews--assorted spawn of Robert, Marlene, and John's two brothers--who truly, absolutely, adored "Auntie Sandy." Especially so at Christmas and on their birthdays, on which occasions they eagerly awaited her very, very generous checks.
As I said, this piece just needed a few tweaks to make it suitable for publication.
Sandra (Brooks) Moore, 68, with her loving family by her side, passed peacefully into the arms of Jesus, on November 18, after a courageous four-year battle with cancer. Sandra was the beloved wife of John Moore, with whom she shared 46 precious years of marriage. She was the devoted mother of Joseph Moore and Linda Darrow, and the loving "Granny Sandy" to Daniel, Paul, and Lauren. Sandra was the cherished sister of Robert Brooks and Marlene Devlin. She is also survived by many loving nieces and nephews.
**************************************************************
It's a wrap--just in the nick of time to make the "Melrose Weekly's" Tuesday deadline. In case you're curious as to the workings of the editing process, note the minor deviations from the original, non-fiction, version:
Sandra (who-wished-the-hell-she-still-were-Brooks) Moore, 68, died alone, in agony, on November 18, after four torturous years spent cursing God and wailing for death to release her.
For 46 miserable years, Sandra was the grossly neglected wife of John "Foul-Mouth" Moore, a boorish, narcissistic drunk, who suffered from--rather, Sandra suffered from his--severe case of WDD (Wandering Dick Disorder). Indeed, John--in the hope of securing a helping hand amongst the ladies so eager to offer consolation at his tragic loss--couldn't even keep it in his pants at the funeral reception.
As for Sandra's kids: Joe would call faithfully every Sunday morning (requesting "refreshment," having run out of money after his Saturday-night bender) and Linda would call religiously every Saturday morning (to make arrangements for date-night, now that her mother-in-law refused to babysit the three "bratsketeers," who were as outrageously disrespectful to her as they were to "Granny Sandy").
Regarding the siblings who so cherished Sandra: Robert missed the funeral because he didn't know--probably still doesn't--that Sandra died. Marlene, on the other hand, rushed to the house minutes after she got the news, so as to paw through Sandra's jewelry box before the rest of the vultures could come a'pluckin'.
Let's not forget the many loving nieces and nephews--assorted spawn of Robert, Marlene, and John's two brothers--who truly, absolutely, adored "Auntie Sandy." Especially so at Christmas and on their birthdays, on which occasions they eagerly awaited her very, very generous checks.
As I said, this piece just needed a few tweaks to make it suitable for publication.
**************************************************************
It's a wrap--just in the nick of time to make the "Melrose Weekly's" Tuesday deadline. In case you're curious as to the workings of the editing process, note the minor deviations from the original, non-fiction, version:
Sandra (who-wished-the-hell-she-still-were-Brooks) Moore, 68, died alone, in agony, on November 18, after four torturous years spent cursing God and wailing for death to release her.
For 46 miserable years, Sandra was the grossly neglected wife of John "Foul-Mouth" Moore, a boorish, narcissistic drunk, who suffered from--rather, Sandra suffered from his--severe case of WDD (Wandering Dick Disorder). Indeed, John--in the hope of securing a helping hand amongst the ladies so eager to offer consolation at his tragic loss--couldn't even keep it in his pants at the funeral reception.
As for Sandra's kids: Joe would call faithfully every Sunday morning (requesting "refreshment," having run out of money after his Saturday-night bender) and Linda would call religiously every Saturday morning (to make arrangements for date-night, now that her mother-in-law refused to babysit the three "bratsketeers," who were as outrageously disrespectful to her as they were to "Granny Sandy").
Regarding the siblings who so cherished Sandra: Robert missed the funeral because he didn't know--probably still doesn't--that Sandra died. Marlene, on the other hand, rushed to the house minutes after she got the news, so as to paw through Sandra's jewelry box before the rest of the vultures could come a'pluckin'.
Let's not forget the many loving nieces and nephews--assorted spawn of Robert, Marlene, and John's two brothers--who truly, absolutely, adored "Auntie Sandy." Especially so at Christmas and on their birthdays, on which occasions they eagerly awaited her very, very generous checks.
As I said, this piece just needed a few tweaks to make it suitable for publication.
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Thanks to MoonWillow for artwork: Weep No More My lady
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