A soft sigh escapes his lips.
”Not anymore.”
( this is because there is no reason for you to use your empathy anymore. its a wasted gift, isn’t it? now it only plagues you — regardless if you’re awake or asleep. )
[ he wonders how many people like him have visited– if any have at all. how many times he’s been asked the same questions. vaguely, james remembers being eight years old, staring at the shiny silver table as the man with the yellow tie asked him about voices– ulterior motives. ]
“ why’s that?
somethin’ different?
besides the obvious. ”