I am dead now—does any of this count?
Would he ever see the sun again? Perhaps he was bound to stay in this darkness. Forever to analyze his life, forever to wonder whether donating it all would have changed a thing. Forever to wish the green imprint of the dollar sign was actually caused by the sun and not some trick of the devil. He was Scrooge, he wondered if he would get to meet Charles Dickens, he wondered if the blackness would stop if he kept walking. He could not see, but he knew he had been walking and with sudden nausea, he sat. He knew he sat in lotus pose, he could still feel his knees under his hands. He could feel the straightness of his spine. James did not move. He could not sense direction nor peace.
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