Friday, November 7, 2008
Fleas in his Ear
Howard Johansson had a flea in his ear. His wife never left him to enjoy a moment’s peace.
“Have you put the bins out?” she’d say. “Have you cleared the leaves off the lawn? Done the washing up? Put that new hinge on the back gate?”
I think he was glad to die. To slip off the stool of life with the noose around his neck. All suicides go to Hell by default – there’s no need for the usual contested reckoning with a member of the other side’s collection agency, but Howard had another reason for coming downstairs, and it garnered him a much higher rating than the Wood of Suicides.
Not content with a flea, he’d placed a flesh eating beetle in his wife’s ear.
We set him next to her for eternity.