Chapitre 521: The Scent of The Grim Reaper - Part 3

More water would be good too. At once, he was freezing, and at the same time, it felt as though his blood was boiling. He was torn between diving under his blankets and hiding there permanently, or jumping into an icy cold lake to try and take some of the edge of the heat off, and maybe narrow down the problems that he had to deal with to a singularity, rather than the multiplicity that currently assailed him.

A moment of lucidity. He saw his boots and his clothes all set up for the previous day. They were there waiting to be pulled on. He hailed the Oliver that had had the sense to put them out ready before going to bed – that Oliver had been a prophet, to foresee such things.

A sense of mission helped to dull the pain, somewhat, just barely. Enough to stay conscious whilst his brain urged him to simply curl up close his eyes and never awaken again. It was not tiredness that motivated him so, but the desire for death, he thought.