-Rider-
“It’s a sandwich, not a bomb. Just taste it,” I said, holding out the sandwich.
James was sitting on the couch in my living room, staring into the fireplace. He sat like that mostly. Just staring at the fire. He wasn’t able to keep warm otherwise, even in July. His body was using everything it had just to function a little bit. I helped his body by keeping him warm with the fire, so it didn’t have to use as much energy on it, yet his mind was still clouded by darkness. His eyes were empty and like glass. They just looked in front of him, while he waited for death to come. He was still connected to an IV, because he refused to eat or drink. I had tried everything, but he would neither talk, eat or sleep. He just sat there with a blanket wrapped around himself. At least I had gotte
