The Sanctuary Beyond the Undergrowth

I saw him in town. His arm was draped around some woman’s shoulders, and they talked very close, like lovers. I stood in the middle of the bustling crowd. Time had paused. I called out his name—I thought he wouldn’t hear—but he suddenly turned and looked at me with those pale eyes of his.

I ran to the park. He followed.

“Why?” I asked. I was crying and didn’t realize it until a little while later. “I was lonely!”

He apologized over and over. His arms wrapped me up into an embrace. “I’m sick around you, Elouise. I’m sick.” His grip tightened around me while I sobbed. “You make me sick, Elouise.”

But I’m sick without you.