Where Have You Gone, Jim?

It was a hot day in late August, 2012.

I think he must have checked into the hospital because he was severely ill with septicemia. After the fourth day of no word from police, I break into his apartment by pushing on his screen, throwing myself over his couch.

There is light I see through a six inch space of his bathroom door. I cannot push the door in.

Nothing prepared me for this.

My hand reaches in the small crevice. I touch what feels like cement.

Cold, so very cold.