#VeryShortStories
"I won't go, I won't!" The message was clear. Emphatically so. The old woman had been as cantankerous at 74 as she had been at 27 ... when she turned down her fifth suitor and decided to remain 'a spinster'! For the remainder of her working life, she was Head Mistress at a posh Girls School, and there were hundreds of students who remembered her sharp tongue and scathing wit. But she had also been their true guardian at school, and she had lavished upon her wards care and nurturing which were of her own brand and fashion!
So, her refusal to leave her spacious flat and go into a Home for the Aged was not at all surprising to the reluctant youngsters of her own family: they had anticipated stiff resistance, clenched fists, and a tongue-lashing.
Finally, Time achieved what no-one else could : a stroke left her so incapacitated that the family were able to cart her off to the Home of their choice with no remonstrations from her, not even a whimper! She had been unconscious at the time!
And now ... Time had scored again. The formidable old lady lay in her casket, packed and ready, it seemed, for the Final Dispatch!
The mourners gathered in the small church spoke morosely of their memories ... video cameras recorded the event for the local news and for personal You-Tube channels. Finally, it was all over! It was time to hoist the casket and get to the cemetary.
Four able-bodied young volunteers put their shoulders to the task, helped not all by two infirm cousins of the deceased who were along 'to represent the family!'
As they lifted the wooden box, they froze!
A loud thudding started up from within! Clear! Emphatic!
"I won't go, I won't!" The message was clear. Emphatically so. The old woman had been as cantankerous at 74 as she had been at 27 ... when she turned down her fifth suitor and decided to remain 'a spinster'! For the remainder of her working life, she was Head Mistress at a posh Girls School, and there were hundreds of students who remembered her sharp tongue and scathing wit. But she had also been their true guardian at school, and she had lavished upon her wards care and nurturing which were of her own brand and fashion!
So, her refusal to leave her spacious flat and go into a Home for the Aged was not at all surprising to the reluctant youngsters of her own family: they had anticipated stiff resistance, clenched fists, and a tongue-lashing.
Finally, Time achieved what no-one else could : a stroke left her so incapacitated that the family were able to cart her off to the Home of their choice with no remonstrations from her, not even a whimper! She had been unconscious at the time!
And now ... Time had scored again. The formidable old lady lay in her casket, packed and ready, it seemed, for the Final Dispatch!
The mourners gathered in the small church spoke morosely of their memories ... video cameras recorded the event for the local news and for personal You-Tube channels. Finally, it was all over! It was time to hoist the casket and get to the cemetary.
Four able-bodied young volunteers put their shoulders to the task, helped not all by two infirm cousins of the deceased who were along 'to represent the family!'
As they lifted the wooden box, they froze!
A loud thudding started up from within! Clear! Emphatic!
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