Only subscribers may read this in its entirety. What follows is a free preview, truncated midway through.On Friday evening Glebov Senior took a turn for the worse: The ache started in his chest, spreading to his shoulder and then into his back. The ambulance was sent for. A young doctor, sullen and drowsy, examined the patient, scratched his cheek thoughtfully and yawned a few times. This final yawn turned out so enormous that the poor man’s jaw popped, and he fingered his chin, mouth gaping and eyes bugging like he was trying to make something out in the half-light of the room. This entire time, Glebov’s family, including his six-year-old grandson, Vanya, looked the doctor in the mouth and awaited the verdict. “Heart attack, I’d say,” the doctor finally forced out, and once again yawned, though somehow this time with a look of alarm—warily, one might say.
Glebov Senior was taken to the hospital, and by the next morning he was dead.