Henry groaned and blinked through blurry eyes up at the man who had entered his prison cell. The man squatted down in front of him and stared into his face in silence. It took a few seconds before he could focus on the man’s face.
“What the hell do you want?” he groused in a rough voice, raspy from thirst.
“Tell me about this man,” the man demanded, holding up the blurry picture of two men.
Henry blinked and raised his good hand to rub it down his face. He needed his reading glasses. All he saw was two big masses in varying shades of gray. Shaking his head, he leaned back against the bulkhead.
“I can’t see a damn thing without my reading glasses,” he replied in a gruff voice. “It’s hell getting old, but better than the alternative.”
The man looked at Henry’s unfocused eyes. He careful
