TheDarkRabbit

Thomas Singleton pressed a button on his wheelchair and the wheels locked into place. His arthritic hands gently placed his napkin under his chin and smelled his dinner. "This smells delicious Grant." "Thank you, Mr. Singleton." "Grant," he smiled. "Last chance or you're fired." "Thank you… Thomas." "Much better." He coughed into his napkin. "What're we eating tonight?" "Ah, tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches." "One of my favorites." The aging man began sipping his soup while the young man sat at the far end of the table with his own dinner. For three years Grant Reynolds had been helping Thomas with some of his daily acti