Mr. Fox's Fun – Part One
Grandfather’s Eighth Letter
After my rescue, my thoughts were muddled and delirious, sluggishly lurching from fear of death to nigh-unconsciousness to actual unconsciousness. This purgatory went on for three days, though time was irrelevant in that blur of shadows, hovering faces, and pain. Needless to say, the experience did not improve my feelings towards the city of Baden.
It was on the fourth day I returned to myself, complete with aching head and sore body. For a long while, I only stared at the sunlight and enjoyed the breeze coming through my open window. I was quite content to be alive.
Yet contentedness is awfully dull and, tiring of the sunlight, I began to analyze it and my surroundings. The sun had begun its afternoon decline, which meant at the very least I had overslept; it was then a question of how long had it been.
Calling out for William resulted only in silence. I ventured calling for a nurse, and again no response. Quite annoyed at being abandoned, I pushed myself up in bed and looked about the room. While my companion was not there, he certainly did not fail to leave evidence of his presence.
William, despite his other positive qualities, was a thoroughly disorganized person. The place was in utter chaos, with plates, boots, and newspapers strewn about as if a powerful and slovenly wind had blown through the place. I was mildly touched to see a chair pulled near my bed with a blanket crumbled on the seat, but my irritation at the rest of the disastrous scene overwhelmed that warmer emotion.
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