Rigmarole

You'll see a great change in him, his sister said, allowing him to go first into the ward. She didn't say - specially since you haven't been here since last year - but it was implied. In the high side hospital bed, Brian's father appeared to be already dead. Waxen, bluish eyelids, sweeping glossy black eyebrows, fine prominent nose. He seemed his old handsome self again, spruced up, ready to meet his maker No longer the dishevelled, unkempt, unshaven, huddled bundle, chain smoking in front of the television, lost in the imaginary community he had come to rely on for company, resenting unwanted visitors who asked him silly questions during his favourite programmes