But she wants more. She always wants more.
'I am a hero' and similar phrases don't work when wet and sad and surrounded by nothing but chilly air.
Nothing but the truth.
After 10 minutes or so of listening to empty words, Mary wondered if this woman had ever stepped five feet outside of the village boundaries. "And one time, the dog came flying over the dinner table, the rascal, and—" She was so focused on talking, she didn't even see how blank Mary's face was. "—but …
You can only run for so long.
She sits statuesque on a chair which ought to be called a throne, and stares at the roof of a house which ought to be called a castle.
She squints at the puddle, but all she sees is a muddied reflection squinting back at her.
The night is terrifying for those without mental or physical comfort.