The Importance of Love

A friend of mine named Patsy used to join us for drinks at the Black Rabbit most Friday nights. We were all pretty concerned for him, but it made sense when somebody closer to him than we were mentioned that he wasn't feeling like himself lately. By the time we went to visit Patsy in his apartment, it was about six weeks since he first dropped off. The man we saw when we walked into that hospital room was little more than a skeleton.