and_then_you_die misstree the ending to every long story. 041211 ... nom) sounds so simple 051111 ... nom) like a recipe 051111 ... Piso Mojado or an instruction manual 051111 ... jan the last chapter in the book of life 051111 ... jane . 051111 ... p2 morty was packing up the last of his things. having lived for 200 years, he had seen 7 generations of his decendants come and go, and as far as he knew, he was the last mcvildernook left alive. each box he packed represented a special loneliness, the most painful of which was the one holding his sequined ball gown in which he got married. samantha had always found him irresistable in it. after she had died, morty was passed from generation to generation, like a family heirloom that came with the house, until finally there were no more mcvildernooks to take him in. having no one left to take care of him, he was being forced out of the home that raised 2 centuries of mcvildernooks. the packing and the memories began taking their toll on morty, and he sat in his favorite armchair to help ease the physical and emotional strains. he remembered the day his father brought home that chair. it was the first new piece of furniture they had ever owned since moving into the house, and it was his father's favorite. he recalled many nights as he had played on the floor while his father sat on that chair reading his newspaper and grumbling about the government. he also recalled many nights has he himself sat in the chair reading newspapers and grumbling about the government, as his kids, and later on his grandkids, played on the floor. it was in this mist of nostalgia that morty first noticed an old book in one of the open boxes. as he picked up the book and thumbed through its yellowed pages, another wave of memories washed over him. he had just turned 16, and his father had called him over to the chair. "son," he said sternly, "you are a man now, and should learn to be as a man should." on the cover, emblazened in gold letters, "life: an instruction manual." "this is all you will ever need to know in life," continued his father, "it was given to me by my father, as it was given to him by his father." never having had much patience for books, he never actually finished the book before he had passed it on to his children to read. you would think that 200 years of life would have taught morty some patience, but good old morty, as impatient as ever, skipped to the end of the book. "and then you die." morty read the words out loud, chuckled, and then closed his eyes for the last time. 051111 ... emmi "every book needs its last page, only the heart needs more" romesh gunasekera 051111 what's it to you? who go blather from