The “chap” waited uneventfully through the first week. The following Sunday, though, while glancing over the sports page and eating lunch, he shouted, grabbed his head, and fell forward into his bowl of vegetable soup. He burbled into the bowl for untold minutes until one of the sisters found him. She pulled him out and started CPR, but he quickly died. “He might have had a seizure and drowned in his soup,” said William. “Bullshit,” I interjected. “Oh, you Americans are so wonderfully blunt,” William continued, “but I doubt we’ll ever know what really happened.” No autopsy was performed.
