There is one woman left in the world, and I love her.
I watch from afar, fearful of what might happen should we touch.
Sometimes she cries, yearns for me. I’m too selfish to offer my hand.
My arm aches from the scythe, but it weighs less than my heart.
Guy takes inspiration from love, life and the drunk strangers he meets on his way home. This is his third fifty word story.