literal: 5sentence_fics
02 - Impulse (September 1994)
He's eighteen years old when they release him (finally) from the hospital, from physical therapy, from white coats, impersonal touches, sterile rooms. He's as good as new, they say, and he should be happy but he doesn't feel anything.
He'd wanted to hear that two years ago when he broke his fingers. He rather liked playing the piano, was good at it, too.
The lawyer informs him that he's inherited the Lefavre fortune and is professional enough to keep his face passive when the boy tells him to give half of it to his late father's wife (not his mother) and her children and the other half to charity.
He's eighteen years old when they release him (finally) from the hospital, from physical therapy, from white coats, impersonal touches, sterile rooms. He's as good as new, they say, and he should be happy but he doesn't feel anything.
He'd wanted to hear that two years ago when he broke his fingers. He rather liked playing the piano, was good at it, too.
The lawyer informs him that he's inherited the Lefavre fortune and is professional enough to keep his face passive when the boy tells him to give half of it to his late father's wife (not his mother) and her children and the other half to charity.