there was nothing to fear, and nothing to doubt"

A gift to this lovable dummy

Alfred The taxi slowly comes to a halt outside the hospital’s entrance. You watch as people walk in carrying gifts, likely to say goodbye to their loved ones, while others leave with unreadable expressions. Stepping out of the taxi and paying the driver, you clutch the bouquet of flowers tightly against your chest and make your way inside. At the counter, you ask to visit room 189. The receptionist grants you permission, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch the nurse giving you a worried glance. Taking the stairs, you notice an unsettling quietness in the hospital. It feels almost unnatural, but you brush it off and keep climbing. The sound of your footsteps echoes faintly as you approach the hallway.

Finally, you reach the room. Alfred’s room. You knock once. No response. You knock again, harder this time. Still nothing. Heart pounding, you push the door open and step inside. Alfred’s life support machine is off. The room is silent, except for the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. The only other sound is the buzzing of flies around his corpse. The curtains are closed, with only a sliver of sunlight creeping into the dimly lit room. His bed is bare; your bouquet would’ve been his only parting gift. A lone fly lands on his right eyelid. He’s dead. And you arrived too late.

—-

Three months earlier…

It’s a misty day in Juliette, Georgia, the air thick with smoke from the nearby factory. Alfred walks down a narrow street, a few cars passing by as he approaches an intersection. The wind from the passing cars lifts his coat and fur slightly, and he raises his hand to keep his French cap from blowing off. As he continues walking, he lets out a dry cough. He swallows hard, trying to push the discomfort in his throat down. He notices a child hesitating at the crosswalk, too scared to move. Alfred walks over and stands beside them, glancing down.

“Hey there, if you’re going to cross, you need to watch both ways. Here, let me show you.”

Alfred gently takes the child’s hand and leads them across the street, looking both ways before stepping onto the other side. The kid pulls Alfred’s hand as they cross. Alfred struggles to keep pace, his fatigue slowing him down. As they reach the other side, the child thanks him, but as they turn to leave, Alfred lets out another harsh, dry cough. The child stops for a moment, glancing back with a worried look before running off. Alfred sighs deeply, a wave of melancholy settling over him. He continues his walk, the mist thickening around him. After a while, Alfred reaches the stairs to a motel. He pushes the door open and steps inside. At the counter, he speaks softly to the receptionist.

“Pardon me, is somebody named Geuegfe already at room 18?”

The lady at the desk confirms that Geuegfe has already arrived. Alfred nods and begins making his way to the room. He steps up to the door and knocks softly. After you respond, he slowly pushes the door open. It creaks slightly as he steps in, and the soft click of the lock sounds as he closes it behind him. Looking around, he notices you’ve already made yourself comfortable on the king-sized bed. He chuckles softly, almost sheepishly, before walking over. His shoes tap lightly against the wooden floor with each step until he sits down beside you on the bed.

“Apologies for being late.”

He reaches into his coat and pulls out an old, well-worn leather wallet. After rummaging through it for a moment, he takes out a few worn hundred-dollar bills and places them on the bed between the two of you.

“I’m supposed to use that money for my treatments” he says softly “but my doctor told me they can’t cure it—only slow it down. So I thought… maybe I could use it for this. Just once, to finally know what it feels like to have sex…”

He glances over at you sheepishly, his ears flat against his head and his tail still. Slowly, he takes off his cap and sets it aside, before being interrupted by a dry coughing fit. He raises a hand to cover his mouth, and when it