Four.v2

Again, I redialed Miriam, and again, only her voicemail picked up. I cursed her as I quickly pressed cancel, then redial once more. I cursed myself, too, for not remembering which place she had invited me to tonight. And I cursed that teenager for being the first mark I had ever run away from. The fuck was I supposed to do now?

When another call to Miriam failed, I texted a curt-but-assertive, Call me now. Was she actively ignoring me? I stalked the streets, eyeing each passerby, though there were only few. It was late, but there was always someone out when they shouldn’t be. Perhaps they were my answer.

A woman was striding toward me in a long coat, hands shoved deeply into her pockets. I sized her up as we approached one another. She was young enough. Looked to be relatively well off, or at least liked to look like she was. I could easily follow her home and—

My phone buzzed, breaking my attention from the innocent woman as she passed me. Finally. I brought my phone to my ear without looking at the screen and immediately cut into her. “Took you long enough! Jesus Christ, Miriam, you have a job to do. You have to be reachable! There’s no reason to be petty and fucking ignore—”

“Collin!” the voice yelled over me, and it wasn’t Miriam at all. “Collin, I’m so sorry for calling you so late.”

I eyed the man approaching me, trying to place the woman on the phone as she continued.

“Your grandma wants to see you. Can’t you come by tonight?”

I exhaled. A new nurse. All Sophie did anymore was call for me, but the veterans knew that. Why would this warrant a phone call?

“I’ll try,” I half-heartedly promised, sizing up a new figure in an alley as I passed it. “But it’ll be late. I’m sorry; I thought you were someone else.”

“Please come,” she insisted.

For a moment, I worried, but this was nothing new. Most of the nurses ignored her cries for me; they were a near-daily occurrence after all. But every-other-week, someone new would join the rotation, and it would tear their heart out. There was nothing I could do to comfort her anymore; Sophie’s dementia made her beg for me even if I was right next to her. I hated being home now.

“Is that all?” I asked a bit too sharply, annoyed that she had interrupted my hunt. That long-coat woman could have been perfect after all.

When the nurse stammered an apology, I hung up, my attention now fixated on a dank bar with a buzzing neon sign in the window. At the end of its blackened alley was a narrow, orange glimmer: someone’s lit cigarette. I feigned casual as I approached the shadow, pulling my own pack from my jacket.

“Do you have a light?” I called out as I approached, hoping their guard would fall with my loud acknowledgement.

“Sure,” a smoke-worn, feminine voice responded.

“Thanks,” I professed as the woman lit my cigarette. I quickly took a drag, more grateful for the nicotine than I had realized. I exhaled the smoke into the cold air, watching as it rose. I tried to assess the woman in the dark without appearing too obvious. Lower middle age—or was that the smoking? It was so hard to tell, even as my eyes adjusted to the near-dark.

“Happy to help,” she responded with a short cough between her own slow drags. Her clothes were too casual to be a special occasion, but too neat to have been slumped in a booth all night. She wore boots and no jewelry, perhaps more practical than most going out at night. She seemed unbothered, despite being in the alley of a dingy bar with a strange man. Whatever was going on in her world, I wasn’t triggering her radar.

She nodded toward the exit door behind her, finally breaking our silence. “Here for a drink?”

“Guilty,” I responded lazily, as if I hadn’t just been walking past by chance, as if I wasn’t sizing her up for harvest. Thankfully, she didn’t seem in a rush to get back inside. With a little luck, perhaps I could…

“Come on. I’ll buy.” The woman dropped her cigarette and crushed the remnants with the toe of her boot.

Perfect. Had recreational harvests always been so easy? What was Miriam so exasperated about? The woman opened the door and gestured me inside. I flicked my own cigarette toward the dumpster as I obliged.

Once inside, under the dim and buzzing fluorescents, the woman’s age was even more of a mystery to me. Her face was filled with laugh lines and stress lines and smoker’s lines, but her eyes clung to a youthfulness I couldn’t gauge. The woman was confusing, but she seemed warm enough, and I hoped she’d either take me home or introduce me to someone who would.

I scouted the silent room with disappointment as she led me toward the bar. The place was dead. The woman I followed was my only chance.

She moved behind the bar as we reached it, swapping her coat for an apron tucked somewhere beneath it. Fuck.

“What are you having?”

“Slow night?” I nodded toward the only other patron, slumped in a booth in the corner. A drink was the last thing I could think of. If this place wasn’t my answer, I needed to get back out there and find someone else.

“Slow year,” she complained in the familiar way only bartenders and bookies do. She leaned forward onto her elbows and gestured to the stool across from her. I checked my phone as I sat, hoping Miriam would have returned a solution, but still nothing.

“Ahem,” the woman across from me teased as she leaned further toward me. “Drink?”

“Whatever’s on draft,” I conceded as I returned my phone to my pocket. If Miriam couldn’t come through for me when I needed her…

“You’re a bit young for this place,” the woman mused as she reappeared in front of me with a frothing pint glass. “Who is she?”

I paused the glass at my lips, confused, before returning it to the bar without taking a drink. “She?”

The woman smirked as she returned her elbows to the bar, eyes on me. “You look a bit haggard, if you don’t mind me saying. Nothing does that to a guy quite like a girl. What’s she done?”

My thoughts stalled. Find an excuse. She thinks you’re pining. Let her think she can read you.

“She’s obsessed with having a social life.” I shrugged, searching my mind for normalcy to share. “She needs dates and needs to be gorgeous and needs…attention. I can’t stand her.”

“Sounds like love to me,” she chuckled briefly. I furrowed my brow at her response, but she seemed unfazed. “So, what’s stopping you?”

I tried to read her body language beyond the ‘bored at work’ that she portrayed so naturally, but I’d been out of the game so long, I wasn’t sure what the signs of interest were anymore. “Stopping me?”

“From telling her how you feel,” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes felt invasive as they assessed me. “You know, communicating. Maybe she wouldn’t need so much outside attention if she got it from you.”

My heart panged at her suggestion, but not for Miriam. Instead, I regretted how distant I’d been with Sophie. She had always wanted my attention, far more than Miriam ever had, and so rarely had I granted it—and even then, only on my terms. It was too late for that now.

“I doubt she wants it from me,” I found myself saying as my thoughts returned to Miriam. I raised the tepid glass to my lips before sucking my teeth as I returned it to the counter. “She needs them to be married.”

The woman held her hand out, tapping her bare ring finger with the same thumb. “It’s because we’re more fun.”

I eyed her more fully and everything clicked together. This woman was leaning over the bar, toward me, in a space where we were already alone, breasts propped upon the bar as her arms both squished them together and framed them effortlessly. Perhaps not all was lost tonight.

“Are you?” I managed as I reached for her extended hand. If I was wrong, this would be a quick way to tell me to cut my losses. But if I was right…

She pulled away from me and I sat straighter in the stool, questioning myself yet again.

Finally, the woman reached for my drink, pulling it toward her as she nodded to a door behind the bar. “Let me show you.”


My hands fumbled with my buckle as I rushed out into the street, astounded at how smoothly things had gone, all things considered. So much had changed in my lifetime on earth, scoring most of all. I felt sorry for the woman I had just robbed, but Miriam was on to something—knowing the woman was married somehow made the unjustified harvest less bothersome. At any rate, I had what I needed. Now, I just had to get it back to Henry.

My phone complained of several missed calls from home, but I couldn’t deal with that now. Still nothing from Miriam. I dialed Henry, nearly jogging as I tried to get as far away from the scene of my crime as possible. I needed this unnoticed.

“Henry,” I rushed the moment he picked up the phone. “I’m coming in with a collection.” I hung up before he could respond and glanced behind me, just to be sure I was still alone.

When I was satisfied that I was, I dialed Miriam again. And again, voicemail. “FUCK, Miriam,” I shouted at no one as I hung up again, instead opening a new text. Meeting Henry for a transfer. You coming?


I arrived as Henry fought to unlock the front door in the darkness, but it only stalled him for a moment. In no time, Henry was ready for me, the machine as daunting as ever—even more so without Miriam.

This time, though, I felt alert as the transfer flowed. I was able to count the years as they pulled from my body into the machine.

“Good on you. I was worried about our quota today,” Henry praised, watching the machine as it ticked off my contributions. “Cash doesn’t keep you young.”

I nodded, grateful to feel Henry was once again on my side. The last thing I needed was for him to feel like I wasn’t part of his team, now that I was with Miriam more than he was. Henry was nothing if not insecure, often bordering paranoid. A happy Henry meant a cushy job.

My thoughts drifted a bit, back to the poor bartender. When I used to harvest recreationally, I never took more than a year from any given mark. Rarely more than a few weeks or months—only ever enough to get by.

But this harvest hadn’t been for me. And honestly, it felt nice to save that girl from the sins of her father. All my life, I had taken years from everyone I knew in one way or another—from my wife, from Sophie, from the clients—but for once in my existence, I was able to give someone their life back, rather than sit by while they lost it to me, either by choice or by force.

I wished now I had known to just leave Sophie alone when she was 25. She could have lived a full, happy life on her own terms, and yet she attached herself to me, doomed to be unfulfilled for the rest of her days. I had stolen decades without ever putting a hand on her at all. Had that been any better than stealing from the barmaid tonight?

I resented my curse—both the obvious and the fact that even after all this time, I couldn’t manage to contribute to a relationship of any kind. All I had ever known how to do was take. Hadn’t I learned from my time with my wife? But then, that’s why I was in this chair, wasn’t it? To pay my due to her?

My body shuddered, suddenly unsettled, and I snapped back to reality to realize the 30 years had been collected and then some—and the machine was still ticking. Henry hadn’t left my cut, or Miriam’s, yet was still harvesting as if I owed him even a drop more.

“Hey!” I shouted as I stood, nearly toppling the machine from his desk. Henry grabbed it though, conveniently failing to turn it off while he feigned confusion.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he demanded, and I cut my eyes at him as I ripped the cords from where they attached to me, breaking several of the electrodes in the process.

“Me?!” I retorted, furious. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“What are you doing?!” he snapped, the vein in his forehead swollen with rage. “Be careful!” He drew his machine into his arms like a hurt lover and eyed me as its murderer.

I only stared back at him, watching as he switched the machine off and immediately moved to assess the damage I had caused. There was no hint of remorse or attempt at apology for taking more than was our agreement. There never was. No matter how much I tried to appease him, to convince him I was on his side, to go above and beyond at times when he was overly stressed, there was never an ounce of good will from his end, and I was tired of trying. Fuck Henry. I hadn’t gone through all I had tonight for nothing, and here he was, showing me exactly how selfish a prick he could be. I had done all his bidding for years, and yet I couldn’t trust him not to steal from me every chance he got.

Sophie didn’t need the transfers anymore. I didn’t need to study his machine, to learn his methods, to try to translate an engineer’s concepts into something I could string together at home. I didn’t have to do this anymore. I was going home.

I didn’t speak to Henry as I left, but I doubt he even noticed. I buttoned my shirt as I made my way through the front doors and carried on toward Sophie’s, growing exhausted as my body responded to the machine taking more than my body had to spare. Glow withdrawal felt like any other—a headache flared behind my eyes, and I found myself stumbling with newfound dizziness. I wanted to pause, to take a breath, perhaps even go back inside to rest, but I knew I’d kill Henry if I saw him again right now.

Fucking Miriam. If she had just come. If she had just showed up, done her job, none of this could have happened. But I couldn’t trust her either. She was always out for herself, just like that backstabbing bastard. They were both too obsessed with themselves to think twice about anyone else. They were perfect for each other.


As I reached the end of our street, I felt the surge of energy I used to when I was going home to Sophie, back when I could count on the smells of her cooking to meet me at the mailbox. Immediately, I tried to place the most recent meal she had made for me, but it had been years ago, and the memory was long gone now. Then, I tried to think of the last thing I had made for her—had I ever?

As I reached the sidewalk in front of our house, I spotted a woman on our porch, sitting perched on an end table, where Sophie had once demanded I keep my only ashtray. She stood when she saw me and the hair on the back of my neck stood. They had never been waiting outside for me before. I instinctively broke into a jog to close the gap between us as quickly as I could.

Hours and seconds passed on that porch as the nurse explained to me the when’s and the how’s. Nothing unusual, everything routine, they see this all the time. The nurses took turns coming out onto the porch and disappearing back into the house. I couldn’t bear to go inside.

“It’s just her time.”

“It’s natural.”

“We tried to call.”

“We’re so sorry you didn’t make it in time.”

“She was peaceful.” But she wasn’t.

“She knew you loved her.” But I didn’t.

My head swam with grief. I could barely remember to stand, much less hear much of what any of the nurses tried to say to me. How could they keep going when Sophie wouldn’t?

At some point, I sat down, and at some other point, a glass of water appeared in my hand. I ached for my cigarettes, but I couldn’t manage to reach for them. If I sat still enough, if I thought hard enough, I could wake up from this nightmare and go home early, see Sophie while I could, because Henry didn’t fucking matter. I had learned my lesson. I would never take her for granted again.

But I couldn’t wake up. Instead, a nurse sat down next to me. She took my other hand and her lips moved, but I couldn’t hear her. Her kindness felt like a betrayal. They had called. They begged me to come. Sophie begged me to come. But I didn’t.

Eventually, a hearse arrived, and my heart caught in my throat as the driver unloaded a gurney.

The nurse holding my hand squeezed as she said something else to me, but I still couldn’t listen. Instead, I watched as the stranger wheeled his gurney past us and into our home. The nurse rose, pulling me along with her, but what was I supposed to do now?

“Everything’s taken care of,” I finally heard as the nurse put an arm around me to keep me steady. Sophie had made her arrangements herself years ago, but we had never discussed the details. I thought I had more time.

When I blinked again, I found myself sitting in the house alone, in the quiet, my heart at my feet as I ached for her. I didn’t know how long it had been since they’d stolen her body, and I wanted to be angry at Sophie for leaving. Did she think so little of me that she’d arranged for them to whisk her away before I could argue? Had I even asked who had taken her? I couldn’t remember now.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. When I ignored it once, it buzzed again. And again. But I couldn’t bring myself to answer. It wasn’t until it continued to buzz incessantly that I finally checked the screen. Miriam.

“Yeah?” I managed in a whisper, unable to think of anything else.

“Collin! I’m so sorry I missed your messages.” Miriam rushed, struggling to catch her breath. “Is everything okay? Are you still at the office?”

What a joke; as if any of that mattered at all.

“No,” my voice answered without me. “It’s dealt with. Thanks for calling.”

“Collin?” she asked, clearly concerned. “What’s going on?”

What could I say? That the woman I lived with and ignored for 70 years was gone now? That I didn’t know what came next? That I wasn’t sure if I was empty because she was gone or because I didn’t have her anymore?

“I’m tired,” I lied, eyeing the clock on the wall as it ticked its seconds forward, as if tonight was a night like any other, as if the world hadn’t ended with Sophie.

“Collin,” she coaxed. “Can I come by?”

Come by? Miriam had never ‘come by.’ Perhaps my autopilot wasn’t as convincing as I’d thought.

Perhaps it would be nice to have someone else here, anyone else here. Maybe her presence, the presence of someone I saw every day, would make this feel less impossible. It might be nice to have someone, so I didn’t have to be so alone without Sophie. But I couldn’t find the words.

“I’m just tired,” I insisted, and continued before she could object. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

“Col—” she began to protest, but I hung up before she could get the words out. Instead, I let my phone fall to the side as I continued to stare at the treacherous timekeeper on the wall.

Its seconds clicked incessantly onward, then the minutes, as the hours crept by. Had it even spared a moment of consideration for the woman who had chosen it?

My mind was flooded, yet it also felt empty. Would I stay in her house? Did there need to be a funeral? Did she have any family? In all our years together, I had never asked. She only ever seemed to need me.

Did she have bank accounts? A will? She had always just taken care of everything, and when she couldn’t any longer, I paid for nurses that did.

Everything’s taken care of, that nurse had said, but what did that mean? That her body was being removed? That they’d washed her sheets? That Sophie thought I cared so little for her, that she had told everyone her final wishes but me?

Had she been lucid when the nurse called me? Did she know it was time? Had her begging for me been normal, or did she recognize that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most?

A ragged sigh escaped my lips as I sunk into the uncomfortable couch that the previous owners had left behind—the one Sophie had found too charming to get rid of, even though she refused to ever sit on it.

The memory caught in my throat, so I forced my thoughts back to arrangements. Could I bare to stay here without her? What other choice did I have? Would she have wanted me to keep her things? Had she arranged a service? And if so, did she want me there? What the fuck would I do without her? Had she even thought of that?

My phone continued to buzz next to me, but there was no one I could bring myself to speak to. Unless it was Sophie, they couldn’t possibly help me now. Instead, I focused on the clock and wondered:

Could the sun bear to rise without her?

Okay, I’ve got my virgin Bloody Mary (cause we ain’t day-drinking here, or drinking at all really cause it slows my brain to a crawl), put on a jacket, and covered my legs with a blanket, changed my contacts out for glasses. Okay, I’m ready now. Let’s go!

Quote :

 I cursed myself, too, for not remembering which place she had invited me to tonight.

This makes me wonder, Col. Has she invited you out before? If she has, I’d like to read about that in the little additional segments that Scottie Elisabeth Taylor says she might do one of these days!

Quote :

And I cursed that teenager for being the first mark I had ever run away from. The fuck was I supposed to do now?

See, I love how he is so fucking codependent, even here in chapter four! Like come on, Col! What is your deal? You just got done insulting her in the prior chapter, and now you don’t know what the fuck to do without her? Can you please make that make sense to me? No, you can’t, cause you’re a codependent butthole right now, and that’s okay. I just can’t with you sometimes.

Quote :

Call me now

MEH, CALL ME NOW, MEH. Save it Col. She is busy getting the Glow she needs. So shut up.

Quote :

Perhaps they were my answer.

Don’t remember if this was brought up in the previous version, but hey, I forgot this was an option for him. Guess I’m too caught up in his desperation to allow myself to think that thought! Love that it’s pointed out here. He could just get a score from someone and say it was from the teen, *cough cough* Char.

Quote :

I could easily follow her home and—

Ooo, I love how this is dropped. Listen, I know Col, but that doesn’t mean the person reading this will. It’s a good way to make us question him. Like, hey, are you really going to do that? Like, I know you’re desperate, and people do heinous shit when they’re desperate, but are you really considering it? I like that we get to question that here. It’s also interesting how it’s a dilemma, almost a dichotomy, that he is given the option to harvest from a teen or someone who  might be considered the  “morally” sound option. Like, he won’t take from the teen, but it’s okay to harvest from someone who’s arguably as innocent of the debt that needs repaid. Love the conflict!

Quote :

“Took you long enough! Jesus Christ, Miriam, you have a job to do. You have to be reachable! There’s no reason to be petty and fucking ignore—”

All I can fucking say to this, is good fucking god. Where does he get off?! This boyyyyy!

Quote :

I eyed the man approaching me, trying to place the woman on the phone as she continued.

<3 this detail. It’s one of those. You know the kind <3

Quote :

Sophie’s dementia made her beg for me even if I was right next to her. I hated being home now.

This is so understandable, but at the same time it seems so SELFISH! I hate that. I hate that for us, and I hate it for Col most of all.

Quote :

“Is that all?” I asked a bit too sharply, annoyed that she had interrupted my hunt. That long-coat woman could have been perfect after all.

This makes me question. He seems certain that he would’ve taken advantage of this coat-woman, but could it just be from both his desperation/frustration? This isn’t the Col we know, but it certainly begs the question, what was Col before we knew him? Was he this way with his first wife? Or is this just a consequence of the situation? Interesting.

Quote :

When the nurse stammered an apology, I hung up

Don’t know why, but this made me chuckle. Poor nurse. She’s new. She doesn’t know the ins and outs yet, but Col just shuns her because there are more pressing matters at hand. Can there really be though, a matter more pressing than Sophie?

Quote :

At the end of its blackened alley was a narrow, orange glimmer: someone’s lit cigarette

Love this imagery <3

Quote :

Her clothes were too casual to be a special occasion, but too neat to have been slumped in a booth all night

Goddamn, this is such a beautiful description. It says so much without hardly saying anything at all. It invokes scenes in our head that may describe this woman that are so concise and relatable, all in just one fucking sentence.

Quote :

Whatever was going on in her world, I wasn’t triggering her radar.

Yes, use that as validation to do what you need to do. Do it, Col.

Also, need to add how all of her descriptors are literally just Col’s biased way of validating his need to take from her. That’s beautiful, because in a different scene/situation, perhaps she’d have been described in a different light. Not something I normally feel invoked to think about when reading/writing, how the situation affects the way we see the character through the narrator’s eyes. So cool that you made me think about this!

Quote :

Perfect. Had recreational harvests always been so easy? What was Miriam so exasperated about?

LOL COL! LOL! Just use every chance you get to put Mir down because you’re angry at her for not being available to save your ass. Then, conveniently, you can blame this on her later! Good job! Proud of you! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Asshole.

Quote :

I flicked my own cigarette toward the dumpster as I obliged.

Loved this before, still love it now. <3

Quote :

She moved behind the bar as we reached it, swapping her coat for an apron tucked somewhere beneath it. Fuck.

Oh the fucking irony of this! The literally use of the italicized Fuck is killing me. I love it omg. I love how this is going for you Col, I truly do.

Quote :

Slow year,” she complained in the familiar way only bartenders and bookies do. 

<3 Love that. Expert-level detail.

Quote :

 She leaned forward onto her elbows and gestured to the stool across from her. I checked my phone as I sat, hoping Miriam would have returned a solution, but still nothing.

Adore the fluidity of these motions. It’s all so real and so visually perfect <3

Quote :

If Miriam couldn’t come through for me when I needed her…

Okay so I’m quoting this line with the one I’m quoting below in mind. Listen, these two segments follow one another in this perfect, ironic harmony. Thank god she interrupted his thought, but also, her asking, “Who is she?” was just perfect following this line. Because, while he isn’t there because of Mir, he kinda is at the same time, and that’s just beautiful. It’s perfect. Like, listen, he’s in a lot of shit right now barkeep, but it’s not really over Mir, even though he wants to blame it on her, it’s actually Henry’s fault. But just the fucking set up of this, and the way the characters almost break the fourth wall in pointing it out with their dialogue. I love that.

Quote :

I paused the glass at my lips, confused, before returning it to the bar without taking a drink. “She?”

Quoting this because I just love the imagery of him pausing before drinking because of the question. <3

Quote :

“You look a bit haggard, if you don’t mind me saying. Nothing does that to a guy quite like a girl. What’s she done?”

That is so fucking true, and beautiful <3 But really, it wasn’t the girl we are thinking of. It was the redhead!

Quote :

She thinks you’re pining. Let her think she can read you.

<3 Adore. Adore his italicized thoughts. But also, he is pining. I’m under the belief that he has always pined after Mir is some subconscious way. I want to believe that, so I will.

Quote :

“She’s obsessed with having a social life.” I shrugged, searching my mind for normalcy to share. “She needs dates and needs to be gorgeous and needs…attention. I can’t stand her.”

UGH! The fucking way he wants to pretend that he’s making this shit up when he’s actually telling the fucking truth! He literally sees her this way.  Goddamnit, he is so envious of not possessing her, even here! Even here in chapter fucking four he can’t fucking contain it and it’s leaking out of him when he’s just pretending to make conversation with this bartender! Godddamn, he is such a fucking piece of work. I love him so much.

Quote :

I tried to read her body language beyond the ‘bored at work’ that she portrayed so naturally, but I’d been out of the game so long, I wasn’t sure what the signs of interest were anymore. “Stopping me?”

Okay, love this for two reasons. Number one is because the way you describe her body language as ‘bored at work,’ and it’s so fucking relatable though it’s so simple. Number two is the way he says his line like he is almost second guessing if he’s actually speaking some fucking truth here! And he is whether he knows it or fucking not! I love that for me, Col! FUCKING LOVE IT!

Quote :

“You know, communicating. Maybe she wouldn’t need so much outside attention if she got it from you.”

Ugh. Okay stahp. That’s enough foreshadowing. Gawl. It’s killing me.

Quote :

Instead, I regretted how distant I’d been with Sophie. She had always wanted my attention, far more than Miriam ever had, and so rarely had I granted it—and even then, only on my terms. It was too late for that now.

Why did you bring this back up?! Goddamn. I was just forgetting that he’d blown off Sophie and had so many time in the past. Here I was all focused on the Col/Mir relationship, and you go and pull this fucking stunt? Really? If Col weren’t so ate up with fucking guilt, I wouldn’t have had to think about this right now either! But also, you literally had me duped into just thinking his mind was on Mir, intended or not, then this slapped me out of right field. Thank you for that!

Quote :

Finally, the woman reached for my drink, pulling it toward her as she nodded to a door behind the bar. “Let me show you.”

Gladly. But also, not. Because this haunts him! HAUNTS!

Quote :

My hands fumbled with my buckle as I rushed out into the street, astounded at how smoothly things had gone, all things considered

I also love the way this plays in my head when reading it. What a stud, just sucking the life out of some poor barkeep in sheer desperation but finding a hint of satisfaction in his ability to do so. And yeah, of course it helps if they’re married. Pieces of crap need to learn a lesson.

Quote :

I dialed Miriam again. And again, voicemail. “FUCK, Miriam,”

Listen Col, slow the fuck down, okay!? But also, what the hell do you need Mir for now? You done done you’re deed sir. You done covered up your issue by doing what it is you were cursed to do? Why do you still need Mir to be in on it? Gawl, I swear. I know he’s in his infant stages of growth, but he needs to chill right now!

Quote :

When I used to harvest recreationally, I never took more than a year from any given mark. Rarely more than a few weeks or months—only ever enough to get by.

Does this mean you were a quick shooter? Heh? Heh? Sorry, had to ask.

Quote :

And honestly, it felt nice to save that girl from the sins of her father. All my life, I had taken years from everyone I knew in one way or another—from my wife, from Sophie, from the clients—but for once in my existence, I was able to give someone their life back, rather than sit by while they lost it to me, either by choice or by force.

I truly feel bad for him here. He says this so eloquently and with such grace that he lacked earlier in this chapter! He just does this fucking pendulum swing of being a dick to not being so dicky! He kills me with that! But truly , I feel for him here. Like, get it together Col. You didn’t do a heroic thing, sadly. You still stole years from an unsuspecting prey. Come on. Just cause it was a teenager doesn’t mean you didn’t still commit the same act. The barkeep had no debt to pay either!

Quote :

I had stolen decades without ever putting a hand on her at all. Had that been any better than stealing from the barmaid tonight?

Okay, listen. I’m glad you clarified with this line, though I knew he hadn’t lay any hands on her . . . sadly. But I did enjoy the thought of him doing so that was provoked by the last quote. The answer is no, however. Surprised you haven’t figured that out yet, Col.

Quote :

Hadn’t I learned from my time with my wife? But then, that’s why I was in this chair, wasn’t it? To pay my due to her?

I’m enjoying all these drawbacks to Char. It’s really nice for her character to become firmly cemented this early on. It’ll make her revelation so much better. We get to ask ourselves just what is his due to her, this early on, and I love that for us.

Quote :

Henry grabbed it though, conveniently failing to turn it off while he feigned confusion.

Yes, conveniently. I love how this action-detail provides more insight into Henry. Like, we know how he is, but we see it in action. What a bitch. <3 him though.

Quote :

“Be careful!” He drew his machine into his arms like a hurt lover and eyed me as its murderer.

Goddamn! What a selfish prick! And so beautifully illustrated here!

Quote :

I only stared back at him, watching as he switched the machine off and immediately moved to assess the damage I had caused. There was no hint of remorse or attempt at apology for taking more than was our agreement. There never was. No matter how much I tried to appease him, to convince him I was on his side, to go above and beyond at times when he was overly stressed, there was never an ounce of good will from his end, and I was tired of trying. Fuck Henry. I hadn’t gone through all I had tonight for nothing, and here he was, showing me exactly how selfish a prick he could be. I had done all his bidding for years, and yet I couldn’t trust him not to steal from me every chance he got.

Quoting this whole thing to say how much I admire it, but also, how fucking clever it is. Listen, this would make me question Henry’s death later on. It would. It would make me question Col in regards to that. Even moreso, however, is that it renders everything that’s happened in this chapter completely and totally in VAIN! And that’s just ironic and SAD! See, see people, this is why he puts up such a fuss about having Mir around, and we can see that he was right to do so though earlier we are like, quit being such a baby. Then, he goes and commits this amoral act that he convinces himself is just because he ‘saved’ some innocent girl in the process, when in reality, it wasn’t! Then, after he goes on about how loyal he’s been to Henry and feeling validated in doing so, this happens, and he’s just like, WUT?! And to steal from one of your reviews, *surprised Pikachu face* This couldn’t’ be more of a slap in the fucking face to both him and us. I mean, we could likely see it coming because we have the fucking forethought to go, “Hey man, prolly shouldn’t put yourself in that dilemma for Henry! Not HEnry! Not heNRY!” Then he does and then he just gets obliterated.

Quote :

 but I knew I’d kill Henry if I saw him again right now.

Ooo I fucking love the bravado in this statement. Especially being followed by the action of him buttoning his shirt in the process of walking out the front door.

Quote :

They were both too obsessed with themselves to think twice about anyone else. They were perfect for each other.

FIRST! Fucking first! I knew he was going to blame it on her! But SECOND! FUCKING SECOND! I cannot believe he just said this! Omg! *Surprised Pikachu face* this time on me! Like goddamn. That fucking victim mentality though! The way it fucking shines here. I’m going to go out on a fucking limb and say there are readers who might sympathize with the way he’s feeling right now! But it ain't me honey! It ain't fucking me! He’s going to regret saying this so hard. So fucking hard! But also, I love that he said it. I love what it does for his character/the story. It’s just such a tangled fucking mess with him! I love that so much. I can’t describe how much I love the fact that this how “Fuck Miriam,” paragraph is at the end of this scene. You are really building him up for regret/growth, and to make us appreciate that fucking romance when it comes! Goddamn, I love you for that! Thank you!

Quote :

Then, I tried to think of the last thing I had made for her—had I ever?

Ugh. No. But that’s okay, because you have me on cloud nine with you just dreaming about you two back in those days. Gawl. I wish it was what was coming, but I know it’s not!

Quote :

sitting perched on an end table, where Sophie had once demanded I keep my only ashtray.

<3 <3 <3 <3

Quote :

I instinctively broke into a jog to close the gap between us as quickly as I could.

I swear, the action sequences are really getting to me in this chapter. So fucking good. So brilliant. They play so well on the realism of his situation. Love <3 Fucking love <3

Quote :

“She knew you loved her.” But I didn’t.

The rapid succession of their dialogue is brilliant and so effective. You have no idea. Then, you get to this line, and you just want to start crying! Crying! Fuck! We know that’s not true, Col! Why are you saying that!? I’m so sorry that all of this had to come down on your head like this! I’m so sorry this miserable night had to end more miserably for you! But goddamn, don’t fucking say that! But he would though . . . he would.

Quote :

At some point, I sat down, and at some other point, a glass of water appeared in my hand. I ached for my cigarettes, but I couldn’t manage to reach for them.

More rapid/fire detail that is so humane and so beautiful here. This is what it truly feels like. You’re not present, not in your mind, when this kind of tragedy overwhelms you. Love.

Quote :

If I sat still enough, if I thought hard enough, I could wake up from this nightmare and go home early, see Sophie while I could, because Henry didn’t fucking matter. I had learned my lesson. I would never take her for granted again.

Fucking stop Col. Just stop. I hate this. I hate when people regret things they can’t change. It’s so difficult to listen to/read about/feel. I hate it. It’s so fucking effective here though. Goddamn.

Quote :

I didn’t know how long it had been since they’d stolen her body, 

What fucking way for him to put this. If you are truly looking for him in the finer details, well, he’s fucking there, and that’s on you GF. <3

Quote :

 my voice answered without me

This is a perfect line. Perfect. Do you understand me? Perfect.

Quote :

Had it even spared a moment of consideration for the woman who had chosen it?

You need to stop with this. It’s too fucking good. Too perfect. Do you hear me? <3

Quote :

 That Sophie thought I cared so little for her, that she had told everyone her final wishes but me?

Oh Col. Don’t you see that whatever she wanted done was one billion percent about you? Like, come on. Th woman adored you. She would never want you to hurt over anything, especially not her. With that being said, I also feel like she would understand you weren’t strong enough to deal with it, as you go on to show us and project onto Sophie here in a few quotes.

Quote :

the one Sophie had found too charming to get rid of, even though she refused to ever sit on it.

Oh, I love this. I simply love it. I can see her right now, sitting in the floor with her legs folded. Love <3

Quote :

What the fuck would I do without her? Had she even thought of that?

There it is. There’s you projecting your feelings onto her and blaming her for the wrong/selfish ones in the most backwards way imaginable. There it is.

Quote :

Instead, I focused on the clock and wondered:

Could the sun bear to rise without her?

Fuck no! Fucking fuck no it can’t! Such a beautiful close, but so fucking harrowing and lifting at the same time. It’s a reminder that she won’t be there when the sun rises, and he questions if (his) will without her. But, the sun WILL rise. And that’s a beautiful way to close the chapter. It gives us both deep feelings of dispair and hope. How you managed to do that with one line is so fucking beyond me. That’s poetic. That’s beautiful. It’s beautifully tragic. That’s amazing. Goddamn. You are just an inspiration GF.


Listen, you are fucking killing it this time around. Do you understand? Do you hear me? Killing it! Col is such a fucking dilemma, but in the most appropriate way. We want to understand him. We NEED to understand him. I need to know why he is harboring all this guilt that he keeps projecting onto these wonderful ladies? Like come on, Col! I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it a million more! Come on, Col!

I particularly love how in this chapter, Sophie actually dies. But it felt like she had in the chapter previous. Here, we really get to experience grief in the real/natural way that it seems lots of people do. It feels like time becomes maliable to him/speeds up. He is lost in these strange observations, but hasn’t yet confronted the grief head on. Instead, I felt like the last chapter allowed him/us to do that so this could feel more appropriate, more real. This is how grief usually works. Denial first. But we didn’t get robbed as the reader. We got to grieve her in the last chapter. This chapter allowed us to focus on Col, and how it affects him, and no so much the actual pain of losing her, both for us and him.

With that being said, the chapter is such a pivotal one to his character in general. We get to see him under this grueling desperation. We see what he’s capable of, how he handles it, and get a tidbit of how it is he possibly ended up in the situation he’s in now. Such insight into him this time around, and I love a strong character growth/development chapter. It’s perfect. <3

Love, BF