In the middle of the other night the nurses heard music from somewhere, and finally traced it down to his room, where he was singing hymns.
In a different kind of prison, one with bars of sickness and of failing mind, he was, like Paul and Silas, still singing.
2 comments:
George died that afternoon
I was going to say, that sounds like the kind of lucidity that comes on right before death. My condolences to the family, and to his friends.
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