I found a skeleton key. It fits no door in the abandoned house.

“I feel alive again,” she says leaving the masquerade, “but you love a lie.”

“Shut up,” she stomps. “*Shut up!*”

“I see an angel. What do you see?”

His heart pounds. “I’m a software designer.” “A god of technology,” she says. “I’m not, Hephaestus.”

Once flesh and blood Then bone and rag Perhaps now I’m just a memory

One good shot does nothing.

She sat motionless, except for her hands on the viol.