Hank Anderson could hear them talking around him. They thought that he couldn’t, but he could – every word. The Illness that confined him to a hospital bed left him weak, and the struggle to move or speak had become too unbearable. But his ears – they worked just fine.
All this fighting and squabbling over a simple set of switches, he thought. Stupidity. Even if they left him hooked up to the dammed machines, it would only be a matter of hours, maybe days, until the cancer finally took him. Better to get it over with quick. Besides, he promised to meet Anne, and she’d been waiting for him for over twenty-five years. It was time – time to go to her, to be with her in their house in the clouds. That’s what she had called it, their house in the clouds.
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