“Me neither,”he admitted. “And though it may sound strange,I live here.But I guess there’s some things we’ll never quite figure out,” he said,a far off expression present on his face.”You’re probably wondering who I am,”he said. “It might’ve crossed my mind,” I replied timidly. “Well,I’m Casimir.I don’t really get out much. Can’t really do that much. Not that I’m dim witted or anything. I am just not so strong or healthy of a chap. I guess you’d find that out eventually,but whatever.I try not to care.Too much trouble,” he mumbled. “Some people might think that if a small young one’s heart is beating and they technically aren’t dead, then they can live. But really, they can’t. Not truly live, at least,” he muttered unhappily. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” I wanted to know. “Preemies. The tiny ones. The ones born to soon and too small and too weak. Believe me, I would know. I was one. And I still am,” he responded.

I had more in common with this stranger than I thought.