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Old Man Logan

The hospital was all right. The food they served was good, though it could have used thirty more seconds in the microwave. It was mostly veggies, and lord knows I have had my fair share of those; I mean, I wasn’t expecting a party, with pizzas or pies, but some rice or pastas never killed anyone. Besides, we were there do die anyway, so even if it did kill someone, it would have been fine altogether. I mean, except for the families, of course. But death by pizza; there are worse ways to go, right?
They had this strange habit of wheeling me outside everyday, even when it rained. They attached some sort of umbrella to the chair, got me all tied up in several scarves, and pushed me everywhere outside. “See there, Mr. Logan? That’s where Dr. Hugot will settle his new cabinet”, “see the bright flowers over there, Mr. Logan? Spring is gonna be here anytime now”, “Not cold, are you Mr. Logan?” I used those as my personal rythm. They uttered at least five a day, six tops. So when the first one came out, I knew I was an hour and a half away from returning to my room. I did not pay attention to the landscape anymore; it had been the same every since I first stepped wheel there. Nothing had changed, everything just grew old – or older. Continue reading

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