Rune fell to his knees, jeans crunching into the snow-filled shore of the lake. She’d just walked away, said she was sorry, take care of yourself. Walked to the Cadillac, opened the door, got in. Never looked back. The door closed, the Cadillac pulled away.
A faint green glow rose from the horizon of the lake. Then disappeared, leaving only the black canvas.
It was over. He’d pleaded with her, couldn’t remember the words he used (other than please, repeated several times) but he’d definitely clamped his hands together, like a hungry man begging for bread. She’d never wavered, showed no willingness to change her mind. Just walked into her Caddy, rode away. And he’d known her long enough, well enough, to have any hope that she’d change her mind.
Cold crept into his knees like ants. The sky remained black.