Harold Percy lay on his death bed as the lonely Australian Sun slowly went down.
By his side was his youngest son Jock.
“ Come close Jock I want to tell you something” said Harold with a raspy voice,
“ It’s all bullshit, son, you know this rubbish about love, it’s all a lie.”
“ Rest, Dad, just rest” suggested Jock.
“ No, it’s all a lie. A man of substance and integrity doesn’t need a woman.
The poets praising their virtues were talking about each other.
Most of them were gay and never knew how mad, bad and sad women really are.
The Bible got it right. Women are pure evil. Don’t get married.
Stay happy all your life.” said Harold with a real sense of urgency.
“ Yes Dad I understand” answered Jock trying to placate the old man.
“ And death is not the end. Death is everywhere. People think that Death is just at the end.
No it’s in every handshake. Death is in the meeting of a man and a women.
Death is in a kiss. It’s everywhere people are.
You cannot sacrifice the infinite Joy of a life alone for the agony of married life.
You must promise me you’ll live alone for there is death in human touch.”
“ I promise”, said Jock who was only half listening.
Just as the last rays of the light flickered at the window Harold Percy passed away.
Jock rang for the Ambulance but it was purely a routine gesture.
He could see that the old man was beyond saving.