I don’t mean to insinuate that you are unfeeling or stifled of life…excuse me on
that one. I just meant to ask you how you breathe when you are down here reading or
writing.”
He smiled. “I have five years more experience in breathing on this earth than you. I
know when it is I can breathe and when it is I can’t and I know just what to do when
such a thing as suffocation occurs.”
I can’t believe it, there is actually a qualitative property to every breath
taken…That must be wonderful. You must also know your cells are degenerating five
years faster than mine.”
He smiled again, the same relaxed annoying way. “I get that you find it amusing to
liken me to my cadavers. It’s not the first time you’ve done it, but truly we are not in
lieu to play smart.”
I was wondering if you could call the cadaver of a smart man, a smart cadaver. I’ve
always wondered.

Auteur: Dew Platt