CALL ME SNAKE

Upon returning from the aforementioned beach volleyball outing, carrying the net, a beach chair, umbrella, and assorted articles, I walked onto our driveway and came within inches of having my head taken off. My neighbor is removing her chimney and had set up some ropes and pulleys to transport bricks from a window to a big pile on the driveway. A container full of bricks slid past me, coming within inches of my head. “If that had hit you,” my daughter wisely said, “you really would have had a good claim against her.” Yes, I thought. But I’m not sure I would have been able to collect it after I was dead.