[His thoughts remain inexplicable it won't don't you know it won't let me go feeling her there her dress damp against her thighs the knife cool against his fingers her throat stop it stop say it Dalton Ames say it do you love him echoing endlessly in the narrowing corridors of his memory. Instead, he shakes his head as if this will suffice for an answer.]
no subject
Say, you're a soldier?