Below is the start of a a short story in the New Yorker.  Gave me pause for thought. I’ll be noticing with more awareness when I am the bearer of bad news, or the bearer of good news for that matter. Enjoy. It’s quite funny actually.

On our kibbutz, Kibbutz Yekhat, there lived a man, Zvi Provizor, a short fifty-five-year-old bachelor who was given to blinking. He loved to convey bad news: earthquakes, plane crashes, buildings collapsing on their occupants, fires, and floods.

The King of Norway
By Amos Oz