The ultimate excuse.


I’ve been silent for some weeks and http://www.’s shaggy dog challenge got me going again.

Truth is often stranger than fiction and so I thought a  twist of the truth would suffice, for my “little incident” to put

it somewhere between the two…

Dear Ms Amalie

After meeting a nephew for ONE strawberry dacquerie in Camps Bay, I hurried up a side street to get to my car,  slipped off my brand new stilettos, fell forward and broke my nose and  wrist.  A kind young man came to my rescue, whisked me away to hospital and in a few hours, I was operated on.  Only when I came round, did I realise that the surgeons had forgotten about my nose! My distress calls brought an irate matron, who assured me that my nose had always been a little skew. When my husband confirmed this, she had me transferred to the psychiatric ward.  

The psychiatrist is insisting that I own up to my folly, before he releases me. He has diagnosed delusions of beauty and there is nothing I can do or say to change this.

Yours in truth

Gail Gilbride Bohle

P S Help?


2 responses to “The ultimate excuse.”

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