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Personal Narrative: J. C. West Memorial

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By the time I made my way back to the dining room my mother had left. Maybe she too had grown weary of the game. While I waited for her to return, I craved a taste of the repast. As soon as I place the spoon in my mouth, I realized Marsha, my mother’s personal chef, had neglected to remove the pin bones from the fish. In sheer disgust, I toss my napkin on the table and went to search for my mother. Unexpectedly, I found her lying unconscious under the dining room table, I knelt down to check her pulse, and discover she had none. Immediately, I speed dialed Dr, Charles, her personal physician, and mournfully explained what had just happened. Within ten minutes he arrived and had my mother’s lifeless body transported to the J.C. West Memorial

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