1. You are going to die
Malcolm has every reason to believe that he’ll be fine. The word ‘fine’ laps gently in his mind like the outgoing tide in a sheltered bay. From resting heartbeat to penile erection, Malcolm’s wiry forty-nine year old body has never given him cause to complain. Things Malcolm can’t see too, those that slide around in darkness, have always done so, smooth and effortless. And while his temperament is inclined to melancholy and rumination, not once has this made its way into any public realm – certainly it has never required professional intervention. Malcolm has always been functional.