Jack was impressed. "You made all this?"Midge nodded proudly. She had always been a good cook, and she was glad her hands hadn't failed her. "Yup. All...this." My, my!" The pride in Jack's voice was unmistakable. "It is terrific."Dinner was a slow affair, and more than once, Jack was tempted to comment on the confluence of the soft light and the flickering candle in creating a romantic atmosphere, but noticing her distant expression, he realized that something was ruining her mood. Unpleasant. The large room filled with medical equipment, the large airy windows. He remembered. This was his father's clinic. He saw in the mirror on the ceiling a small figure covered in bandages around it's head. Laying on a bed nearby. The figure appeared to be looking at him. Apparently he was not alone in the clinic. David tried to sit up. He found that he couldn't. He was unable to feel anything. Even trying to move his head was difficult. "Why was he here?" then he remembered vaguely the. More

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