"So, you see, I keep fantasising about my own death. Can't help it. The thoughts just come. I've died a thousand different ways. Diagnosed with cancer, HIV, radiation poisoning. Been knocked down, stabbed, shot. Had heart attacks, aneurisms, brain tumours. Old age. Even still-born."
John brushed his hand through his hair, and continued: "Every cell in my body is a traitor, you see. Each one is trying to kill me. Every car, a death-threat. Every moment, a death-moment. But, it's not as if I want to die. That's not it. Actually, I'm bloody terrified of dying. It's just that, it's the only fact, you know? Everything else is just possible. But death is a fact. It's bound to happen."
"Hmm," Doctor Hambrook replied, "And when did these fantasies start?"
"When I was thirteen. In school. When I fell in love with Susannah. God, now she was sexy."