The fat man laughed. “I bet that makes it worthwhile, eh?” He said. How had everything gotten so far? Surely this wasn’t it? This is what it was all worth? Something wasn’t right. I closed the case and looked up at him. “It’s not enough,” I said “I want more.” He looked at me. He didn’t seem surprised. “Well now, I thought you’d say that. So what if I was to tell you that the police are on their way here? That somebody has tipped them off that Jake Friar has been spotted in the area. You know...

“Who are you? What do you want?” the man screamed in my face. Simple questions, but ones that are not so easy to answer. As is the custom with such things, I guess I should start at the beginning. And the beginning of this tale starts with extraordinary violence. I hadn’t ever wanted for much. Just a nice job, working to help people, a nice house in the country, filled with the sounds of happy children and lastly a wife to love with all my heart. And I guess two out of three isn’t bad without...

Tick. Tock. The beat went on. Tick. Tock. My heart metered by the rhythm. My breathing measured by the volume. My mind cosseted by the drugs. My feelings amplified by the time. Tick tock went the clock. So here I lay, never moving, never growing, never changing. If only they could see the world through my eyes. Then they’d know. They’d know to switch me off. I can hear them, but they cannot hear me. If only I could speak to them, let them know I don’t want to go on. If only I could tell them ...