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Rated: E · Poetry · Comedy · #1594530
HUMOROUS, WITTY
Her tombstone read: Now here she lays, The Old Spinster woman dead as a bat, from choking to death on the hairball of a cat.

Her little sister always knew this would be how she would meet her demise; so when she bit the “dust” so to speak, this was of no surprise. She had warned her over and over to let her come and clean from ceiling to floor, but her older sister would just get angry…and shut the door!

If only, if only said the little sister, she would have let me do the cleaning, we wouldn’t be sitting here with no meaning due to her death from a fur ball!!

Now, the old spinster woman, was in her own glory, lying on a new sofa up in heaven with kitties all around her, peering down at her little sister who was still insisting that her big sister choked on a fur ball.

The kitty lady laughed as she watched her little sister run around and redecorate house to house, never staying in one long enough to even spot a little mouse! But Lordy if she ever had, that little mouse would be up in the big house ….with me.

And she just kept on and kept on as she always had, rushing throughout the house of her and her mister, sweeping and mopping and thinking of her sister, she just shook her head, and to herself she said….if only she had listened to me…about those fur balls. I tried and tried to get her with all my bazillion phone calls, but she would realize…that it is I who make all these family laws! And she should have listened!

But she just kept on cleaning and cleaning to make sure her house was spotless as possible, for she could not stand a crumb, a spot, a paper out of place, for in her mind…this was a total disgrace.

And she supposed, her sister Sarah, deserved what she got, because she had all her “priorities” in the wrong spot. She should have been cleaning and scrubbing, because in her mind, her sister’s house was as small as a dime.

But alas, Sarah chose, in the time she had off from her job that she would rather be resting and knitting instead of finding places where everything was perfectly fitting.

The sister knew that She the had HER priorities straight and would rather be her on knees and hands scrubbing her house in a feverish frenzy, just so that maybe she would then be at everyone’s envy.

So here ends the tale, of the premature death of Sarah the sister with 2 cats who died while knitting a hat or something like that, and choked while trying to breathe in the air and instead it ended so unfair, inhaling a fur ball, that was the size of her coat, and which landed straight in her throat.
© Copyright 2009 Clementine (clemie3106 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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