Norris Moore fell asleep and then, with practiced ease, stuffed his ice-cold feet into his embrace.
Moonlight penetrated through the cracks where the wall let in a draft, filling the room that had no lights on with a dim glow.
He gazed down at the face that was so close at hand.
She was now frightfully thin.
Her palm-sized face had not an ounce of fat left, and where there had been a rosy flush on her cheeks, now was only pallor. She looked much like one of the emaciated, pale patients locked away in a mental hospital.
He lifted his hand and gently stroked her tender skin with his fingertips. Perhaps his touch was uncomfortable for her, as Norris Moore wrinkled her eyebrows in her sleep and then buried her face in his chest.
He withdrew his hand and looked up at the streak of moonlight coming through the crack in the wall. He turned his body so Norris Moore was nestled between him and the wall, warming her cool body with his own temperature.
