She told me so herself. She did not

understand how a man

could be such a coward.


I did not, either. I just

assumed they all were. It surprises

me to think she once thought

he was not. Where are those days,


I ask. She told me I lived through

them. I did not know. I did

not notice. I did not need to.




See, actions speak

— not louder than words,

but a language that goes beyond

syntax and what they imply. He


never spoke to me. He says he tried,

but I do not want


to hear.



I wonder how am I

to face him tomorrow. Or the next

day. Who knows when he is coming.

He is as afraid as I am,


only he does not know. He

never will.


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