Dennis R's Afternoon Joke. An older man lay dying in his bed, Drifting in and out of a fitful sleep. he suddenly smelt the aroma of his favorite sconces drifting up the stairs. he gathered his strength and gradually lifted himself from his bed leaning against the wall he gradually made his way out his bedroom and gripping the banister he struggled down the stairs and into the kitchen, there piled on a tray, were his favorite sconces, His eyes got misty, one final act of love from his devoted wife of sixty years, seeing that he left this world an happy man, he thought fondly, mustering a great effort, staggering to the table, his withered hand trembled towards a scone. Smack, something hard hit his hand. get away from them said his wife, holding a wooden spoon, they are for the funeral.