That night, Andy produced a sandwich for her that she claimed to be unable to eat. This caused a sharp and dense sensation of fear to travel from Andy's chest to his stomach.
"I'm going to take a nap for the moment. Then I think I can eat." Grace said in a weak and wavy tone.
Andy collapsed to the side of the bed. The wooden floor made him feel cold so he took Grace's hand and pressed it to his cheek. The cold way of her own hand surprised Andy. He removed it from his cheek and tucked it under the sheets with the rest of her body.
His thoughts then started to drift. He felt guilty when he started contemplating the outcome of the Royals game. He wondered why this was still important to him as the woman he loved lay dying.
He too fell asleep. Around Seven o'clock the next morning, he turned to see if Grace woke up and ate the sandwich he had made. She did not. The sharp and dense sensation started to rise in him again. His last thoughts were not of her but of the game. It was so stupid to think that way. Time slipped away and, though he tried to rationalize the situation as being out of his control, he still felt so bitter.
days run away i_ smirnov.mp3
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