The season mature and the season young.
It was word given without question.
Couldnâ€™t have been much more, he said.
She didnâ€™t want much more, he said.
Nothing you can do, she said.
The day rose and the day slow.
They had no answer for their inquiry.
He wanted much more, she said.
I couldnâ€™t take it any longer, she said.
Nothing I could do, he said.
The hour pass and the hour turn.
The softness into hate.
She wouldnâ€™t let it go, he said.
It wasnâ€™t what it seemed, he said.
Nothing we can do, she said.
The door open and the door shut.
The smile shifts.
Whatâ€™s wrong, she said.
What can I do, she said.
Nothing they could do, he said.
The knife cut and the knife stop.
The day was set.
I do, she said.
I do, he said.
Nothing else was said.