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MARCH'S WINNER: The Last Laugh

I never imagined a day like this would ever come to pass. On his death bed, with withered skin and broken nails, all the wispy white hair that once clad his body now abandoned, he could barely utter a sigh. Those glassy eyes glanced up at me with hope, fear and acceptance. I should have visited, I know I should have. Blowing it off with trivial excuses. 'I'm bust' or 'I'm working'. Never visiting becauseI thought this day would never come.

"Dad, I'm so sorry" I wept, clutching his frail, clammy hands close.

"Goodbye, So Sorry," he whispered gently. "I'm dead."



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