Natty listened with silent sympathy, then to the poet's lament — "love is pain, but I couldn't be without it." Perhaps the ghost agreed; perhaps his life (and death) would be something entirely different if it weren't for this love that so defined him.

As for Natty... "some ten years", he replied quietly, the vagueness a disservice to his stale grief. He knew exactly how long it had been since she had passed. "But at times it feels like only yesterday."