It’s a cold winter night, and my wife and I are alone in the house, binge-watching some new series. I was transfixed by episode one, and gripped by episode two, but midway through episode three I have started to look at my phone, and as a consequence I’ve lost track of the plot. I have an idea what’s going on, but it’s not the right idea.
“So hang on,” my wife says. “Was that just the dead guy? Meaning he’s not dead?”
