Wine Is Bottled Poetry, He Thinks.

Timing Is A Sensitive Thing.

I Wished For Her,” He Says.

Celia." He Says Without Looking Up At Her, "why Do We Wind Our Watch?" "because Everything Requires Energy," She Recites Obediently, Eyes Still Focused On Her Hand. "we Must Put Effort And Energy Into Anything We Wish To Change.

The Rain Increases And Umbrellas Sprout Like Mushrooms Amongst The Graves.

The Silence That Falls Between Them Is A Comfortable One. He Longs To Reach Over And Touch Her, But He Resists, Fearful Of Destroying The Delicate Camaraderie They Are Building. He Steals Glances Instead, Watching The Way The Light Falls Over Her Skin. Several Times He Catches Her Regarding Him In A Similar Manner, And The Moments When She Holds His Eyes With Hers Are Sublime.