CHARLOTTE
He just lies there, eyes closed, unconscious.
He´s normally so alive. Everything about him is alive. Even when he´s angry with me, I love it that he´s always on the move, in motion; thinking, talking, being him. To see him like this, so reduced...
Please don´t leave me. Please...
I miss you.
Wake up, Master. Come back to me...
Please wake up.
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“Would it help to hear our voices?” I ask the doctor. “Can he hear our voices?”
The doctor shrugs. “We don´t know. Odd things happen in these cases. People who we believe are deeply unconscious, later report hearing conversations around them.”
Perhaps I could read to him?
“It can´t do any harm.”
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I sit in the armchair by his side, reading aloud from ... I struggled to choose what book to read to him, since it occurred to me, belatedly, that I have no idea what my Master reads for pleasure.