Chapter 26

He placed an advertisement. Online. But in the few minutes it took to write and post it, he could feel another headache coming on, at the front of his head, where he’d struck it in the accident. His spleen had been ruptured and his face, neck, and upper torso cut up and bruised by the shattering glass, but only his head ached. Maybe he’d left the hospital too soon. Or possibly his headaches were something like aftershocks, echoes of the horrific crash that would gradually go away.

In the living room, he turned on the television. He wasn’t interested in watching it, but the background noise made him feel less alone. He lay on the couch as a commercial ended and a late-night news programme recommenced. More bombings. More death. More violence. Hardly news anymore. It was all so tiring. He closed his eyes and listened to the voice of a reporter somewhere in the Middle East. It didn’t take long for her voice to become a droning sound that faded slowly into silence.

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