The Old Man Says, It's Fletcher Alright, God He's Aged

Fletcher had spent many tranquil hours browsing through books or conversing with whoever happened to drift in. As he was drifting off I heard the old man saying, it's Fletcher alright, God he's aged. He might wake in a few hours and then we'll have to stay up with him. The bed felt damp and the springs creaked under my weight but before long sleep engulfed me once more. When I next awoke the room appeared to have grown both darker and colder. Voices were continuing behind me in lowered tones, but I could make no sense of the conversation. A hand placed gently on my shoulder and looked up to find a woman kneeling over me. Now Fletcher, she said,