He’s Dozed Off Again, But

I Drink In His Wholeness, The Soudness Of His Body And Mind. It Runs Through Me Like The Morphling They Give Me In The Hospital, Dulling The Pain Of The Last Weeks.

Sometimes, When I Clean A Kill, I Feed Buttercup The Entrails. He Has Stopped Hissing At Me. Entrails. No Hissing. This Is The Closest We Will Ever Come To Love.

It's More Complicated Than That. I Know Them. They're Not Evil Or Cruel. They're Not Even Smart. Hurting Them, It's Like Hurting Children.

Everything Is About Them, Not The Dying Boys And Girls In The Arena.

Just Give Him The Medicine!" I Scream At Her. "give It To Him! Who Are You, Anyway, To Decide How Much Pain He Can Stand!