Narration(Grant): It’s a cold, windy day.

Narration(Grant): The day I’ll forever mark as the point where…I utterly take leave of my senses.

Narration(Grant): If only I’d trip on a stray cat or something. It might distract me. Get mud on my trouser cuffs. Then I’d have to go home and clean it before the stain set.

Narration(Grant): Then I might accidentally misplace the rattling jar in my pocket. And it would be like I’d never set out on this terrible path.

Narration(Grant): The one I lose my innocence on.

Narration(Grant): Certainly she’ll refuse. Laugh at me and send me home to cook dinner for myself and Kore…and then flip through a picture book until the succession off images…drowns out all traces of the plan from any crevice of my mind that the telepath could reach.

Narration(Grant): But what if she agrees, what then?

Narration(Grant): Do we become murderers together?