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[trenchknives]

[Jimmy hasn't been around much in the last couple of days. There's a good reason for that, a damn good one, and he's about to make it known. He looks tired, worn down, maybe even a little sick as he turns the communicator towards himself to begin recording.]

I died.

[No preamble, no explanation for the moment.]

I died, 'n I don't know what to think about it. I don't know whether I could've done anythin' to stop it. I don't know why the hell I had to come back to life.

[He rests his chin on his hand, sighing.]

All I know is I could sure use someone to talk to right about now. Or drink with. I ain't picky.

Comments

[affectioning]

But, you still got your son. And you tried being a good father. It counts for something. [ Maybe everything. ]

[trenchknives]

Yeah, but haven't you ever... y'know, sometimes you wonder whether tryin' is really good enough, right?

[affectioning]

I have.