"Oh Greta," he moaned, gazing with disbelief at the fragments.
Where was her pulse?
"I'll fix it," he whispered, probing for her heartbeat with his bloody fingertips, all the while staring with bedazzled eyes at the brilliant shards twinkling in the light, searching in vain for one that might contain the etchings of the salmon fish.
But he found none, for their arduous journey had come to its fated end, lost forever in the frozen crystal bits.
* * *
Once the plane reached cruising altitude, William reclined his seat and closed his eyes, musing over an idea that had flashed in his mind the instant Matthew had asked for his promise.
Now, after dozing on and off through half the flight, half-consciously dreaming up the specifics of his new plan, he was ready to put down the particulars. He opened his notebook on the tray table and went to work. He drew various boxes and connected them together. He penciled his name in the uppermost box, and filled in the others.
A flight attendant appeared at his seat. "Sir, you slept through the meal. Can I bring you a snack or a beverage?"
He looked up from the chart. This was cause for celebration.
"How about a Sassy Screw?" he said, a little embarrassed saying the cocktail's name, but in want of one just the same. He continued drawing, completely filling the page with little squares and lines.