Words

Posted on September 11, 2014

Today, I had a choice of two statements to pick from.

It felt a bit like being close to death and picking your epitaph for the headstone.

Each choice was bland, each one said nothing, each masked the truth.

“Rest in Peace, taught from 1.9.87 to 31.7.14, but we can’t say why he left.”

I wonder if this engraving will attract ex pupils and tourists like Sylvia Plath’s in Heptonstall.

Nah, doubt it.

Terminated by mutual consent, I chose, nuff said.

Alf, I’ll pick your inscription … karma is heading your way …


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