“Can you imagine someone who knows that he may be living his last year?”

The enquirer was sitting in a wheelchair opposite me – a man in his late forties to early fifties, broad-shouldered, dressed informally, black hair with streaks of silver grey, intense brown eyes, clean shaven.

“How old might he be,” he went on, “and what might be the reason for his imminent departure?”

He eyed me questioningly, an enigmatic smile on his pale, handsome face.

“I believe you’re not referring to yourself,” I smiled back.

He grinned broadly and chortled, “Well, a bit of sarcasm won’t spoil the pleasure of our interaction.” He pressed one of the buttons on the arm of his wheelchair and moved closer. “Are you really sure you want this?

Now, he was staring at me intently, unblinkingly. “Let’s put it this way: Are you adamant in your decision?” Continue reading →