Ode to ‘Love’

The little old lady came to the doctor for her respiratory problems.

“What ails you, little old lady?”

“Wheelll. I just can’t seem. To catch my breath.”

“Hm. Hm. I’ve seen your kind before. Some rest is all you need, and a laxative. Take these pills when you wake up and these pills when you sleep.” He handed her two bottles and ushered her out, patting her kindly on her stooped back.

The little old lady hobbled to the door, then the sidewalk, then the street. Sadly, she was too slow for traffic. The driver never even saw her.

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