My heart pounded at the thoughts of wandering through the secret garden, inhaling deeply of its musky scents. Summer had always been with me, in my d...eams how often I had walked in the garden, drank and ate from the banquet. I thought the memory would fade in time, but it never left me. Sometimes, I felt as if he were reading my thoughts, he would watch as I gazed out the tower windows, knowing I missed the life I left behind. Memory has a way of exemplifying the good times and dimming the. Instead, his hand left the goblet and he raised it to his eye level, pulling his fingers into a tight fist.He was losing control of his hands and arms. He was losing control of his feet and legs. All of his appendages periodically trembled now and there were times when he wasn’t able to find the strength to rise – or to move at all. He stared down at the scored wooden table, its surface a darkened patina from smoke and dirt and age. He tapped his fist upon it lightly and, ignoring the wet. More

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