It was that simple. Her words reached into me, grabbed my spirit by the heart and reefed it from my body. It was the words and the voice, and Octavia and me. And my spirit, on the silent, shadow-stricken street. I could only watch her, as slowly, she collected my hand and placed it gently in hers. I took all of her in. It was cold and her smoky breath flowed from her mouth. She smiled and her hair kept falling over her face, so beautiful and true. She suddenly had the most human eyes I’d ever seen, and the slight movements of her mouth reached for me. I could feel her pulse in my hand, beating gently onto my skin. Her shoulders were slight, and she stood with me on the city street that was slowly flooding with darkness. Her hand was holding onto me. She was waiting. Silent howls howled through me. The streetlights flickered on. I remained still. Completely still, looking at her. Looking at the truth of her, standing before me. I wanted to pour myself out and let my words spill onto the footpath, but I said nothing.
