Aunt Quint, by Bobby Warner

It happened so quickly. One day here, the next day gone. It was just like Aunt Quint; always liked to liven things up and get the best of folks. This time it looked like she was gone. A piece in the paper, many phone calls, funeral arrangements made.

We dressed in our finest and went to the funeral home, expecting to see Aunt Quint in her coffin.

Instead she met us at the door, laughing her sides off.

“No, I’m not dead. This is just a trial-run for my real funeral – which I hope won’t happen for another forty years!”


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