Tim, son, brother, uncle, godfather, friend, classmate, obsessive Star Wars, aliens, and comic lover
self-taught breakdancer, armored car security guard, P-Town tattoo artist,
gamer, LEGO fanatic, collector, expert at whatever he set his mind to
took a breath, shaking, rattling in and out the tubes put into his throat, down, to his chest.
He closed his eyes. They were shut for a while. And with eyes still closed,
he stopped. That was it. Good riddance, tubes. Goodbye gown.