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"zena, are you listening to what I’m saying now...I love you." Although the room naturally ate every whisper
of sound... it all seemed to echo, a million voices in one wretched chorus. She lay on the bed, such a
sweet body, drawn out... so innocent in sleep. He had found those words so hard to say in every past he could
remember, no fear now, he could say it as much as he wanted, but she had already given herself to the sandman’s
erogenous passions.. So it didn't really accomplish anything, just that same minute satisfaction that never lasted
that long anyways... that one minute of inner happiness that we look for in the hours of sadness.