“Her soul is teetering like a tally two-whacker,” Mama gasped, and then she was fading, my guiding star drawing me back to him with the lulling rhythm of his Siren song. “Our love goes with you like the tinkling wind at your back! Keep it as close as a dingy stick in the face of the devildust!” Mama called and I tried to speak with her, but that path of death was closing to me now, one of life gushing closer instead.
