Henry is dead. He died sometime after being admitted to the hospital. They told me that the frostbite was too severe and even amputating his arm wasn't enough.

In the empty hospital room, where the doctor was gently explaining it to me, I heard a voice. A child's voice, but it sounded strange, as if it wasn't coming from anywhere, but everywhere:

"Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping? Brother John, Brother John? Morning bells are ringing, morning bells are ringing. Ding, dang, dong. Ding, dang, dong."

The air grew cold and I could see my breath in front of my face. The doctor didn't seem to notice anything himself, though, because he kept saying that he was sorry for my loss.

I asked him to show me the way out. I didn't want to walk there alone.