The ambulance arrived after several minutes. In response to their loud knock, I yelled for them to come in. A man and a woman dressed in white came into the kitchen and took charge of the situation. While they were busy, I thought of something and going back to the counter, looked at one of the pieces of mail.
A water bill was addressed to Anatole Petros. Momentarily, and with a surreal sense of irrelevance, I registered that the last name sounded like Greek for Peter, and remembered that it meant rock. I had to shake my head to recall myself to the situation at hand. Idly, I reached up and felt the leather collar I always wore.
Should I remove it? I asked myself. I turned as I was about to do this, but when I saw Anatole’s inert form on the floor, I found that I couldn’t. It would be an
