She looked at him as for the first time. The eyes she had looked into so many times were now unfamiliar to her. His lips, the ones she had kissed, felt different, the sensation distant.
"Who are you? she asked.
"You know who I am." He looked at her, piercing and probing.
"George Grant. That's who you were, the name you gave me. But that's not who you are is it? That's not even your name. Is it?"
He looked away. "No."
"Please," she said, grabbing hold of his hand, "tell me your name. Give me that much."
"I can't."
She let go of him and got up, ready to leave.
"I can't tell you. It's not safe for you to know."
"Goodbye George or whoever you are."
He looked at her helplessly, wanting to chase after her but knowing he could say nothing to keep her.
No comments:
Post a Comment