He wasn’t sure how to kill him. There were so many other parts and pieces that needed to fit in place just right along with his death. It needed to happen at the right time and the right place. What would happen afterwards? What needed to happen before? What would the others think and feel?
What about what the doctor told him this morning? That’s what he should be thinking about. A diagnosis that would change his life and the life of his wife. Everything would have to change. They needed to plan a new diet, new medications, sleep, exercise, surgery, it’s too much.
Instead he’s thinking about the damn book. Why is this story taking up more room in his head than his health crisis? Maybe he needs to finish it before the end? He wants to finish it, now more than ever, if it’s the last thing he does.