Our talkative host, suddenly silent, rose from his chair, and fled the table towards the bathroom, leaving his gathered dinner guests bewildered. His concerned wife pursued after him.
They sat, mostly in silence, waiting.
Eventually, she returned to the table, soon followed by the husband. He held a wet washcloth to his mouth.
“He bit his tongue.”
“Is it very bad?”
“No.”
“Thank goodness.”
He remained subdued, in a sort of embarrassed muteness, for the remainder of the evening. Of course, it did not help that the conversation immediately and impolitely turned to the question — why do people bite themselves?
Leave a comment