Intentions henry morgan stories

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Henry listened to the whir of the machines surrounding Adam’s bed, counting each sigh of the ventilator,

staring curiously up at the ceiling and counting the tiles there just as he imagined Adam had done many times before; there was hardly anything else to look at.

The white sheets seemed far too bright when Henry at last returned his attention to Adam, who lay prone upon the mattress,

pillows stuffed beneath and around him so that he was angled in a different position to avoid sores.

It was, coincidentally, the most convenient position Henry had seen him placed in,

since it allowed Adam to glare completely at Henry in his bedside seat rather than merely glaring out of the corner of his eye. His fury was far more evident when his entire gaze could be seen.

Henry, slightly uncomfortable after nearly five minutes of tense silence, cleared his throat and shifted in the cushioned chair the nurse had finally brought in, after his fifth visit.

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