““He walked into the shadows of his rooms; walked into the darkness that no light penetrated. And there, under a halo of gentle red, she waited for him. In silence he stood, while the time drifted by. Days passed thus, stretching out. What of it? He had time. They had time. He touched her hand; it did not move. Very gently he lifted her body, cradling it in his dark arms. Is this what you feel, Sara? Is this what you feel when you cry?””
