Guest of Horror

My friend Kathy's birthday celebration turned into a surprise party -- for me.

I sat quietly, chatting with the revelers assembled. After about 40 minutes of pleasantries, I heard a loud thud and clanging noise at the exact moment I suffered a mighty blow to my head.

A heavy, wrought iron candle holder had vibrated itself off of the shelf two feet above and toppled down into my flesh.

"Are you okay?" my wife asked, making a mental note to give Goodwill my entire wardrobe and plush toys.

"Oww. $#!*," I exhaled, clutching a batch of scalp.

When I could proceed, I removed my hand from the pulsating pain. I felt blood flow swiftly down my forehead. There was an alarming puddle of crimson in my palm.

Fortunately, a young man with medical training attended to the wound in the lavatory and made the immediate danger and my concerns go away through fast action.

I returned to the party in the nick of time. The cake was almost history.

As I forked dessert, I heard whispers on my near-death experience, "It was Mrs. Jackson in the living room with the candlestick."

1 comment:

Jorge said...

Karma can consider candles creative killers. Make sure you have your affairs in order. Alphabetical, if possible.

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