Robert lays back on the bed of grass, allowing Mo's pudgy hand to
brush his eyes shut.
“What will I...?” he begins to ask, but is unable to finish as Mo
lays a finger across his lips.
“Shhh,” the midget says quietly, “Just relax. Relax and
breath.”
Robert feels the midget's hand begin to gently stroke his brow. The
questions that were racing through his mind begin to evaporate as his
breathing becomes deeper. He feels the sun on his skin, warm and
reassuring, nearby birds singing distantly.
“Maybe I should have done this before,” he thinks, picturing
himself floating in sunlight, “Finally I don't have to worry.”
It's at that moment he feels something in his hand, a string of some
kind. He's wants to look, but can't bring himself to open his eyes,
even when the string starts to pull in his fingers.
