NATURAL 

My landlady Lupita and I were chatting on the balcony of the San Jose Posada Inn in Melaque, Mexico. She was talking about her life. She told me about a friend who got involved with a bad crowd. Mixed up in the drug trade, he apparently double-crossed the wrong person and had been shot and killed.

"Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah!"

Lupita ran a finger from near her left shoulder diagonally down across her torso while vocally imitating a salvo of bullets. She then closed her eyes and let her head drop to the side, feigning death.

"Didn't it scare you?" I asked. "Having a friend killed like that?"

"No," she answered calmly. "Why should I be afraid? Es natural."