How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?
Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector's item.
Here it comes. My inevitable death, ignoring me all those years when I wished for it daily, arriving only after I've decided I want to live forever.
No praise, no blame. Just so.
Enough white lies can scorch the earth black.
Nothing is permanent. Not even the end of the world.