"Always", he said, "it always ends like this". And this time he was right; the night sky lit by distant lights, the rain that washed away his dreams of solitude, no way could this continue.
But could this really be the end, the whimper hanging in exclamatory fashion but lacking the full stop.The world had changed around him, he alone remained oblivious to the flux.
Was it just yesterday the young girl smiled at him? Did she in fact smile?
The old uncertainties returned; "it is finished", he sighed, "the golden dream has gone", but had it ever been much more than an illusion?
He thought again, broke down before the memory bank of smiles, "it always ends like this" he sighed, "it always ends!"
A cloud passed by, he felt its shadow choking against the moon.
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