Décès de Gary Moore

dlareg a écrit:Une crise cardiaque dans son sommeil

c'est possible mais bon

Bon was alone when he died. It was a cold, bleak night; an icy wind whipped across the bald hills of Dulwich. Inside Alistair Kinnear’s little Renault, Bon shivered and jerked beneath a thin blanket.

Under the accumulated strain of more than 15 years on the road, in a conspiracy of circumstances, Bon’s ailing system finally gave way. He was already receiving treatment for liver damage. He hadn’t eaten, and he was extremely drunk. His heart was heavy, his head light, spinning. The world outside was harsh. The temperature was around freezing point. Unable to find a comfortable position, curled around the gearstick, his neck cricked. His dental plate dislodged. The bile rose up in his stomach and his asthmatic windpipe tightened. Whether it was hypothermia, asphyxiation, liver failure or even cardiac arrest, or all of those things or none of them, he would be a free man in the morning.

dlareg a écrit:Une crise cardiaque dans son sommeil

c'est possible mais bon