Wednesday’s Child: Fatal Eggs
Every once in a while a Jehovah’s Witness comes calling at the door, which is more than a little odd. Not only because this is a squarely Catholic country, but also because here in Sicily we don’t very much like witnesses. In fact, we usually kill them as they turn a corner, with a single blast in the face from a sawed-off shotgun. My father, who lives in New York, used a different technique. Whenever a Jehovah’s Witness, or indeed a representative of any other millenarian cult with an apocalyptic agenda, appeared at the door, he would swing it open...
