I was before her in all ways, except the ones that mattered.

He was the sound that the lonely electric six string's amp makes as it bounces of the wall of an empty studio apartment.

The mask broke and scrapped hard against his face from the force of the blow. George suddenly began reconsidering his vigilante hobby.

"I am not asleep," he says with anger trailing into a sad question. The type of strange outburst that demands new puncation to be invented