I s'pose, I can't have it all my own way, can I? You can't drown in a person unless they let you.

I also fear that nothing really ends at the end. Things just keep going as long as memory can wield its ax, always finding a soft part in your mind to cut through and enter.

I see Death as the part of us that knows all the time that we're going to die, reminding us to live properly.

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.

The happening that happened was that I met this girl.

She was a girl with a mountain to climb.

It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way.