... he'd awoken alone, and the simple fact of the silent room and the empty bed beside him filled him with such despair he wondered for a breathless, bottomless moment if this is what hell might be like. Not flames and screams and lakes of fire, but anguish and hopelessness and misery wound together like a wretched braid cinched tight around his neck in an invisible noose from which he would hang for all eternity, alone.

Auteur: J.T. Geissinger