see it for myself, to burn the image into

one-way tic

festive downtown, surrounded by expensive shops and laughing tourist

iar, terrifying rhythm. I stumble

d across his face. He walked over, pul

o hear. He pressed the money into my hand. "You look like

I was homel

t smile. The kind you give a stranger. There was no

ow, pointing at a ring. "Oh

ce, I watched them laugh, kiss, feed each other samples of fudge from

y vision started to blur at the edges. The

llap

t a white ceiling. The smell of antise

red eyes was loo

m... I'm very sorry. You have an end-stage glioblastoma. It's e

n. It had made the tumor real. Tangi

ity. "Is there anyone we can c

ust a few blocks away,

id. "There