[ He doesn't take it. But he stays close, in that careless, absent way people are when they don't mind someone near them. The wind whistles through the dying grass around the Manor, trees turning riots of colour closer to the lakehouse. There's laughter in the distance, two distinct voices, two boys. But they're out of sight — one is always with him, the other is a wraith. A third joins them, a girl. ]
[ They were never together like this in life. But it's a good story — he tells it. ]
no subject
[ They were never together like this in life. But it's a good story — he tells it. ]