If I had lived my life in the consciousness of this death, everything would have been different.

He did not ask me to shoot him; perhaps at the very end he loved his vanishing life.

The silver fish flashed in the sun like new knives, transforming their asphyxiation into a display of beauty as they flicked and leapt against each other and died.

If you have been embroiled in a war in which you confidently expected to die, what were you supposed to do with so much life unexpectedly left over? There were so many ways of passing the peace, and you would never know what they would have been like, those roads not taken.