"he sang a bit of a song to me once," she said, looking away. when she looked back, there was a warm smile on her face, as though haunted by a memory. "under the milky way by the church. ever heard it?"

he nodded a slight nod.

she nodded in kind, then turned away again, looking on into the distance. "he only sang one line, and it was only so he could make sure i knew what song he was talking about. but it was so beautiful, his voice. it was like- it was like he meant the song. like maybe the song was meant for him."

the silence that followed was uncomfortable. he wasn't quite sure how to respond, uncertain whether responding was the right thing to do.

it was in awkward moments like this that his eyes tended to stray, searching madly for patterns to attach to, to cling to, to have meaning, to pretend symmetry and harmony and order and most of all, control.

the darkness of the night sky, even illumined by the moon, wouldn't oblige him. there were no lines to trace, only vague forms with shadowy outlines. in fact, she herself was nothing more than a shadow, a form of grey and blue shapes that shifted and sighed like a cloud. his eyes slid away from her, blurred into her, and he felt himself drowning in instability.

finally, in a meek and breathless voice, he asked the question he dreaded to hear the answer to, asked it in the guise of a statement. "So you miss him then."