i can barely focus on the present , the idea of being able to predict things that havent happened yet seems a little out of my reach . he leaned back from his accusing glass of whiskey . he picked something up instead - the loaf of bread - and pulled the tie off the end . it was when he was dead . i realized my hand was still in his , and quickly drew it back . he felt sure he stopped breathing . not long enough to be rude . the ship shot into the atmosphere . 