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... h. Delia lay on the damp, mossy ground, the side of her head screaming with a dull, throbbing pain. Black spots danced in her vision. She tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt heavy, disconnected, refusing to obey. Above her, a figure came into view, silhouetted against the bright, indifferent sky.

"Philip?" she managed to say, the name a confused, painful gasp. Her voice was a thin, reedy thing. "How are you here? And how... how are you walking?"

The triumphant, cruel sne ...

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Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .