Lost Creek Hollow I'm such a romantic,

he smiles, beatific. a bear...?

so that's your whole deal? the smile sways from genuine to strained back to genuine again, parabolic and glittering, before dying altogether in one incredulous steel-capped question: you're just crazy?

he steps out into the rain, stumbles over a tree root. you're... lyin. aren't-cha? he steps back in and manages to stumble over the same tree root. out of the ashes of the smile arises an expression defined by its intense expressionlessness but inside his thoughts are thrashing and straining the hull, the wood groaning--

why would she lie to me? is she crazy? did she really play with a goddam bear? WHY did she play with a goddam bear? why would she lie to me? what did i do wrong? i didn't do anything. am i crazy? what is wrong with--

i, just, he chuckles. 'm sorry. it's just, god, a bear.

wow.