Chapter 1: The Horizontal Man
Before I saw the dead body, I used to like raisins.
In fact, I used to love raisins: raisin toast, raisin muffins, raisin pudding, raisin cereal. Now I look at one of those dried-up grapes, and all I see is a dried-out corpse. This morning at the breakfast table Uncle Stoppard set a plate in front of me with two giant raisin muffins, steaming with melted butter. I must have had a funny look on my face, because right away Uncle Stoppard asked what was wrong.
"You promise you won't laugh?" I asked.
"Promise," he said.
So I told him. His cucumber-green eyes got squinty: it was his serious look. "But,...