My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

the hum of the ventilation unit.

Ben gave a slow, weak nod, his eyes half-closed as he lay back against the pillows. “Whatever you say, kid. I am just feeling a bit worn out tonight.”

He reached for the bedside table, his fingers brushing against his crooked black bow tie before settling on a half-empty plastic cup of water. He took continue reading …