"I understand..."
A young man with curly brown hair had a faint smile on his lips and the glint of tears in his eyes. With what seemed to be all the tenderness in the world, he undid his shirt one button at a time.
He pulled the shirt free from the mangled flesh. He suppressed a pained gasp, and as his chest heaved, a fresh, copious gush of blood bubbled out once more.
Leaning against the corner of a wall, he gazed at the head resting in the crook of his arm and said in a low voice, "It's not like... it's of any use to me anymore..."
"Please, please, please, please,"
The head had long, curly hair, but there was nothing beneath it—only the young man's arm, reaching out from between the silken strands, cradling empty air.
