Strolling along that lake brought him too many remembrances, so he sat down. She had drowned, not quite on that pool, but in the sea of passion and madness. Yet he was the one who fought against the idea of dipping into a deep labyrinth and dark hollow. The boat was about to sink but he didn't know either.

He insisted on trying to keep things smooth by denying the existence of any turbulence. He should have seen that coming, though it passed like a ball running directly to the pins. He was too dull to even recall why he couldn’t see the avalanche. But it was there.

He left her a note over the bench. It was the last time he would sit there.

“Good-bye to you, darling,” he heard her whispering. He then breathed in deeply. He just knew she'd found a place called Peace.

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