A figure stood framed in the doorway. Lightning flashed.
"Roth!" I exclaimed, surprised. "You were dead."
He stepped inside out of the rain. "I got better," he replied.
"I went to your funeral."
"I wanted to hear what people would say about me after I was gone."
"What did they say?"
"Oh, there was a really nice eulogy. A few snivels then a cough, two belches and a fart."
"Touching, I think. I'm also really glad you went for the burial rather than cremation."
"And someone dumped 17 tons of grapes into the grave."
"Sorry, that was me."
"Well, when someone is ill you visit them in the hospital," I looked for understanding, "Yes?"
"And bring them fruit?"
"Dead is the ultimate in ill, so I thought you'd need a lot of fruit."
B flat below middle C - *Vuvuzela* [pronounced voo-voo-zella] A long plastic trumpets blown by South African fans at football games, which are being talked up as the 12th man of...