You don't shoot a dog when it is already dead.

So much good, so much evil. Just add water.

Is there cowardice with the acknowledgement of fear?

I traveled the globe as always, handing souls to the conveyor belt of eternity.

The first couple of times, he simply stayed - a stranger to kill the aloneness. A few nights after that, he whispered “Shhh, I’m here, its alright.” After three weeks, he held her. Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man’s gentleness, his thereness.

Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

Things always seem to glide away. They come to you, stay a moment, then leave again.