I never thought about it before - whether or not gold was influenced by the passing of time, however, now when I looked at the little, green tarnished, that reminds my of moss in which I loved to sleep in as a young girl, on the surface of my golden ring, I finally understood that nothing lasts forever.

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And certainly not the man who once wore the counterpart to my golden ring, no, not him, none of his smiles, wrincles around his eyes, or the gentle hands that were, oh, so used to picking thoses little, red cranberries bought him eternity. He was resting there now, under the green, soft moss that I now loathed more that anything.