On a sunny April morning, Mildred decided she’d had quite enough of Malcolm so she shot hit in the head. Even before his pale, flabby torso hit the ground, she was sorry she hadn’t shot him twice, but there had only been one bullet in the gun. Next time, she told herself, I will pay for two, or maybe even three. It certainly would have been nice this time. Mildred used the money she’d saved on bullets to buy an extra mint pie at the trolley round the block. Then she reconsidered. If I had purchased two, or even three this time, she reasoned, I wouldn’t have had enough left over for this rather tasty treat. It just goes to show you, she ultimately decided, that God’s plans always have a way of working out.