They Say When Trouble Comes

You Can Pretend For A Long Time, But One Day It All Falls Away And You Are Alone. We Are Alone In The Most Beautiful Place In The World.

Of Course She Had Some Pathetic Illusions About Herself Or She Would Not Be Able To Go On Living.

I Have Tried," I Said, "but He Does Not Believe Me. It Is Too Late For That Now" (it Is Always Too Late For Truth, I Thought).

I Hated The Mountains And The Hills, The Rivers And The Rain. I Hated The Sunsets Of Whatever Colour, I Hated Its Beauty And Its Magic And The Secret I Would Never Know. I Hated Its Indifference And The Cruelty Which Was Part Of Its Loveliness. Above All I Hated Her. For She Belonged To The Magic And The Loveliness. She Had Left Me Thirsty And All My Life Would Be Thirst And Longing For What I Had Lost Before I Found It.

I Watched Her Die Many Times. In My Way, Not In Hers. In Sunlight, In Shadow, By Moonlight, By Candlelight. In The Long Afternoons When The House Was Empty. Only The Sun Was There To Keep Us Company. We Shut Him Out. And Why Not? Very Soon She Was As Eager For What's Called Loving As I Was - More Lost And Drowned Afterwards.