Then she says, ‘I love you.’ Like three drops of blood falling onto snow.

I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.

We make patterns, we share moments. Sometimes, I think I'm the only one to see it.

That slow smile again. I love that smile! DId I think he was ugly just now? No, his face is transformed.

There's a terrible stillness. I notice a small tear in the wallpaper above her shoulder. I notice finger marks grimed on the light switch. Somewhere down in the house, a door opens and shuts. As Zoey turns to face me, I realize that life is made up of a series of moments, each one a journey to the end.

It was strange how words meant something when they came out of your mouth. Inside your head they were safe and silent, but once they were outside, people grabbed hold of them.

Moments. All gathering towards this one.