"You have to believe me, sir!" I cried.
"You have too much," he corrected. "There isn't any way the source is the cause. Life is not death, is not decay. You are mistaken."
I am not mistaken, I thought so loudly I was sure it would become vocal. However, years of subjecting myself to his correction saw through and for a moment I thought for surely what I saw was folly.
Then, I was certain I watched living flesh grow dead, and I knew again my witness was correct. If only, some way to correct him...
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