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Looking through stringy strands of blonde hair that fell over his forehead and partly hid his face, Derek watched the progression of the Tamplians as they brought the day’s meal.
He rose from his crouch as the prison guard approached the front of his cell. Instead of a tray, a cup of water was slid across the stone floor. Don’t want to waste good food on a deceased human, Derek thought. Approaching the cup as the guard returned to the door at the end of the corridor, Derek became aware of minute details. The size, shape, and material of the vessel that held the last thing that would pass over his lips in this lifetime. He became fascinated by the way his fingers stretched towards the water, the muscles in his arm that contracted in order to bring the cup from the floor to his lips. Cl
