“You won’t go gently”, the doctor tells the boy. “It will be hell.”
He’d go into details, but the kid would never fathom it. He’s just too young. Not that the disease cares. It has taken his parents. Soon it will take the boy.
Though the virus is decimating the population, the kids are still best off. They will last three weeks, sometimes a full month. But how comforting is that when bursting ulcers will eventually destroy you from within as your glands swell and cut off all oxygen to your lungs?
Yet not a frown is seen on the boy’s face. His gaze doesn’t look at the doctor at all but towards the window. And he smiles.
When there is nothing left to salvage, what is there to do but laugh it off?
The doctor gestures in the motley gang behind the glass.
“Send in the clowns!” he yells.
In the boy’s eyes, they’re already there.