He walked into the hospital, hands full of things. Over his shoulder, held in place with one of his arms, was his black guitar case. It was covered in stickers of various locations, mostly from his parents who had travelled so much back in the 60’s. In fact, the guitar itself was the same one his father used to play so many years ago.
The other hand carried a bag of art things. His art pads, pencils, some paints, charcoal and other such things. Even if Katelynn was asleep he would make himself comfortable in a room that seemed so alien and cold despite her presence there in the bed. He would cover the walls in paintings and sketches for her, so when she could open her eyes and focus on things she would see color and not just white walls.
Jack nods his head to the woman behind the desk as he walks past her, and through into Katelyn’s room.
First thing he goes is walks up to her bed. Alice is gone. Probably to check on her own place, or to the rest room. Jack eases his guitar case off of his shoulder and reaches out and touches her hand with his own.
“I’m back.” he mumbled.
Jack Maple 