"The scene had cleared up, the maids were gone and so were the kids, leaving their dead friend sunk beneath their feet only to float up in their sober consciousness, over and over. They say a drowning man comes up three times, or rather, every dying man gets three chances. Which probably explains why in olden times a dead body would be rested at three stages on its final journey. Three was a magic number. Three subtle channels in the ethereal body, three gods, three threads on the twice born, the three divisions of time into past, present, future, the three types of breath, in, out and held. ‘Wonder how the three little pigs fit into the grand scheme of things’, he said to himself as he got up. " - The Fiver, from the upcoming short story collection, 'The Last Meal on Haight & Ashbury and other tales with a twist'