She then made the saddest noises in the rain, talking illogically with greater emotions than a woman would mingle in the twilight at the change of life. Hearing the cry of her despair, sensing the void of her fearfulness, the texture of my brain seemed to be crushed before my eyes could open. With an aching thirst, a rumbling stomach, a mouth ulcer and terrible itches from the bed bugs and mosquitoes, I cruelly interrupted her from drowning herself in the depth of her misery.