Please Note: this is 100% fiction.
“Are you thinking of retiring?” Steve asked as he watched Ernie handed him a surfboard with trembling hands. Ernie had been working at the boathouse for as long as Steve’s been surfing and as Steve brushed back his full-head of peppery gray hair, Ernie chuckled.
“Heck no, the only way I’m retiring is when I’m dead. Last time I checked, I’m 95 and still kicking.”
Steve never thought that would be his last conversation with Ernie because a few hours later, the boathouse was cordoned off by police tape, Ernie’s body was under a white sheet. Death by heart attack.
(100 words)
This is Another Story 
👏👏
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At least he died doing what he loved.
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That’s all it matters, right?
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For some people.
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A good ending for him, I guess – 95 and still working at what he loves.
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I feel like that’s the best way to go.
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If it was a heart attack, why have the police cordoned off the area like they would a crime scene?
Anyway, he died doing what he chose to do. That’s the best way to live 🙂
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It’s the perfect way to go… doing what you love.
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When your time is up, it’s up.
Glad Ernie went out on a high nore!
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Well said, when one’s time is up, it’s up.
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