Beneath her sweater he was certain he felt a lump
The angora sensualized what he knew to be a potential malignancy
Nancy pushed him aside and stated the obvious
"You! The King! How could you?"
He reached again for furry rabbit wool covering soon-dead cancer-flesh
"I demand a different outcome! You are the King and I am diseased, am I not?"
He thought of the Easter song about Eggbert the lonely egg
He imagined himself covered in mites and that the mites turned into rabbits
He made wishes that were almost prayers and he knew he could do nothing to help her
Trader Joes sells multivitamins. Cheap butter, too.
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