“The moths around that street lamp give me an ominous feel. Don’t they know they will get torched?”
“Perhaps, they do. But they cannot overcome their natural instincts. Just like a lover does…..”
Bob looked at me dreamily, as his voice trailed off. It was his manner of expressing love, as he downed his sixth drink for the evening. Silly, romantic poet that he was ….
The banker confirmed that all nominations were in my name, and his will was in the locker with duplicate keys. It was now only a matter of time, till the slow poison consumed him.