I write this in the knowledge that I may not be able to tell you these things myself; and the hope that maybe you shall find these papers before the damp takes them, and sends the words into the inconsolable ether.
Short Story
“You are immortal,” he was told. “You will live forever.” This was quite impressive news to take in. To be told that one would never die is like releasing a pressure valve. Time stops, in an instant, suddenly an intangible force. The man drank a cup of tea, and sat in a chair for a long while, and thought about how he would move forward with this impressive news. He got nowhere fast. The tea grew cold, and the chair began to sink.
