I’ve read somewhere that the sense of smell is the strongest of all the senses. After last night’s dream I fully agree with that.
I was a very old man that lay dying in bed. In death’s doorway, I suddenly smelled the aroma of my favorite chocolate chip cookies wafting up the stairs. I gathered my remaining strength and lifted myself from the bed. Leaning against the wall, I slowly made my way out of the bedroom, and with even greater effort forced myself down the stairs, gripping the railing with both hands.
With labored breath, I leaned against the door frame, gazing into the kitchen. Were it not for death’s agony I would have thought myself already in heaven. There, spread out on newspapers on the kitchen table were literally hundreds of my favorite chocolate chip cookies. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of heroic love from my devoted wife, seeing to it that I left this world a happy man?
Mustering one great final effort, I threw myself toward the table. My aged and withered hand, shaking, made its way to a cookie at the edge of the table, where I was suddenly smacked with a spatula by the Pickle Queen.
“Stay out of those,” she said. “They’re for the funeral!”
Keep your fork