Last Words

Uncle Fred was in his bed with the end near. That is, of his life, not his bed. Those few relatives who at the last moment could make it to his small unventilated room sat in silence on inexpensive folding chairs. Then Fred abruptly awoke.

“Is there anything you want to say to us, Uncle Fred?”

“What?”

Felice, who’d called them together, asked if he had any, well, last words.

“Last?”

The old man was confused. He looked around.

“Is that Mel there?”

“Yeah, it's me, Mel, Uncle Fred. You're looking good.”

“Mel? What the hell's Mel doing here?”