Jericho took a pair of sunglasses and painted the inside of each frame black. He didn't want to see, you see. He wanted to be blind and he wanted to walk around as if blind, and for everyone he met to treat him as if he was a) superior to them due to the wearing of shades in December or b) to treat him with the same caution that every disabled body receives for its fragility.
Once, Jericho took his dog to the park and tied him to a fence while he dug a trench. It was only three feet deep because the remains of the snow kept the ground frozen and cold. The dog's name was Oscar. Jericho dug for two hours and after he was done digging he took the dog and placed him in the trench, removing his collar and lead as he did so. They were worth more than any canine deserved. The dog didn't object, instead it looked up at its owner with sad eyes. Pulling the fence pole which previously held the dog, Jericho stood above his pet and met its gaze. The fence pole was near frozen with silvers of ice caught in the ironwork. He raised it above his head with one hand and brought it crashing down onto the dog. Dark blood escaped the dogs head as he yelped once and became limp. Before too much blood had mixed with the tundra and patches of snow, Jericho filled the trench quickly and went home.