I need more than that.”A woman. I knew, now, the voice of other was woman. I had no frame of reference for woman. Yet I defined her in my mind. Woma... was the perfect complement to me. We would match. Woman would mold around me and fill those spaces within me where there was nothing, as I would fill her heart. She had voice. I had hearing. The voice was musical. It did not screech or scold like the distant bird. The voice was like her touch. She was firm and precise, but gentle and soft. Each. He could hear it every now and again, but when she waxed poetic there was a glassy sheen over her oh-so-blue eyes that couldn’t be penetrated by any man. She knew it too, and could smile when he attempted to delve into her inner sanctuary. ‘People disappoint me,’ he heard her say. ‘As a whole, the race is largely a let down. They do their damnest to screw one another… and themselves… over. Massively suicidal… self-destructive… self-deprecating. And they start when they’re young too, tearing the. More

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