A West Indian Love Story
Donovan was on his death bed. His wife Leila was maintaining
bedside. She held his fragile hand, tears ran down her face. Her praying
roused him from his slumber. He looked up and his pale lips began to move slightly. "Mih dahlin Leila," he whispered.
"Hush mih love," she said. "Rest. Shhh...doh talk." He was insistent. "Leila" he said, in his tired voice. "Me have someting me hafa confess to yuh." "Yuh have nuttin to confess replied the weeping
Leila. "Everyting alright, go to sleep mih love."
"No, no, me hafa die in peace love. Me sleep wit yuh sister, yuh
best friend and yuh mudda."
"Me know," answered Leila, "dats why me poison yuh rass".
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