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Summary
“How long has it been?” she asks.
The resentment builds. A pile of stone, lung-cramping and hard on your knees to surmount. “One year.”
“How long has it felt?”
“Fuck.” The whole structure crumbles. He chokes on the dust. Has to blink twice to see through it. “Lifetimes. Multiple.” Death of hope, rebirth of longing, over and fucking over. “Samira. Don't fuck with me.”
“Can't,” she says. “Don't know how.”
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Two lonely people come together atop a Swiss castle ruin.