A bank representative will come to your house and tell you it’s not your house anymore, it’s the bank’s. Your husband will die of a heart attack on the spot. The bank representative will help you try and resuscitate him, but it won’t be any use.
At the funeral, the bank representative will stand by a tree and watch. You’ll go to him, with the same flush of giddiness you felt when you first saw him standing on your porch.
“You felt it too,” you’ll say.
“When we were performing CPR,” he’ll say. “I knew your husband was gone. But I kept performing mouth to mouth. Knowing that his lips had probably recently touched yours, I couldn’t resist putting my mouth to his again and again and again.”
“I thought you were hogging him,” you’ll say with a giggle. “But you were wrong. His lips hadn’t touched mine for quite some time.”
He takes you home because you need a roof over your head and you live the rest of your years together. On your death bed you’ll say to him, “Thank God my dead husband never paid his bills and ruined his heart with fatty foods.”
“Thank God my bank had a no mercy attitude to delinquent borrowers,” he’ll answer.
He kisses you, with the same hungry kiss he gave to your husband when he searched his mouth for a lingering taste of yours. He kisses you to keep you from opening your mouth and saying goodbye.
Happy This Is How You’ll Fall In Love Day!
