In Another Room…



The machine helps him breathe

as he slowly dies


in another room


Ticks and Tocks…


Jamison looked at the golden pocket watch in his hand, closed the cover, and tucked it back into his vest, patting the spot twice before buttoning his black suit jacket closed.

“Is everything fine, sir?” The porter asked from the station platform.

“Hmm.” Jamison looked up into the bright portly face of a man in his mid-forties who’s glasses did little to hide his face. “Oh, yes. Quite so.” Jamison curled the edge of his mustache up.

“It’s just that, if you begging my pardon for saying so, sir,” the porter looked as if he was trying to choke down an entire side of pork, which invariably he had done in days recent.

“Out with it, man, you haven’t got all day.” Continue reading Ticks and Tocks…