Subject: Pierogi's
An elderly Polish man lay dying in his bed. While
suffering the agonies of impending death, he suddenly
smelled the aroma of his favorite pierogi with fried onions
wafting up the stairs. He gathered his remaining strength, and lifted himself
from the bed. Gripping the railing with both hands, he
crawled downstairs. Downstairs, he leaned against the door frame, gazing into
the kitchen, where if not for death's agony, he would
have thought himself already in heaven, for there, spread
out upon waxed paper on the kitchen table were hundreds of
his favorite pierogi. Was it heaven? Or was it one final act of love from his
wife of sixty years, seeing to it that he left this world a
happy man? He threw himself towards the table, landing on his knees in
a crumpled posture. His parched lips parted, the wondrous
taste of the pierogi was already in his mouth. With a
trembling hand he reached up to the edge of the table, when
suddenly he was smacked with a wooden spoon by his wife. "Back off!" she said. "Those are for the funeral."
Subject: Pierogi's
Hybrid Mode
