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Thursday, 1 April 2010

The story of a marriage

An elderly man is on his deathbed. Seated on a chair beside him is his wife of 45 years.

He turns to her, squinting through rheumy old eyes. “Diane,” he says, “for the past 45 years you’ve always been by my side.”

“Do you remember that time we were on holiday in Yalikavak, and we walked up the coast to watch the sun setting over the sea and I tripped over my shoelaces, tumbled down the cliff face and broke my leg in three places? You were by my side.

“And then, do you remember, a few years later we went on that amazing boat trip off the waters of Kalkan. We went snorkeling to see the coral reefs and the brightly coloured fish. I got cramp, sunk to the bottom of the sea and nearly drowned. You were by my side.

“And can you remember that trip to Istanbul, where we went to that romantic restaurant overlooking the Haghia Sophia, the Bosphorous Strait and Old Istanbul? I choked on a piece of flatbread and almost died right there at the table. You were by my side.

“Now, I’m dying. And you’re still by my side. Diane,” the old man says, “you’re a jinx.”

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