"Twenty Minutes," by James Salter

First thoughts.

Reading this story after "The Jilting of Granny Weatherall,” I’m struck by something the two have in common: an early move that makes us think that the character will not die.

In “Jilting,” it’s Granny’s sass – her evident strength and vivacity, and her assurance that she knows death, and it is not coming for her, no sir.

In “Twenty Minutes,” as was pointed out to me by my friend Jonathan Dee, there’s a feint in the opening.