He sits in the Last Church. It is a cold, stone building. He doesn't even know how old it it. But old enough that it withstood most of the blasts. The winds whistle through holes in the roof, dust and bits of stone fall around him like hail. He draws his cloak tighter, to protect himself from the cold, rather than the falling debris. He has been waiting for a while now. The Other would be here soon. He could sense he was near. The place that was once a city shuddered when he entered it. If there had been people left they would have wailed. The wind would have to do. The rain, hard and poisonous, would have to replace human tears. The door behind him smashes open. The Other is here. He stands ready to greet the visitor. He turns slowly, his hands raised to show he comes unarmed, but of course, the Other already knows that. It is a force of habit, something he used to do in the Old Times.

He later told her that he had his father's ears. Not only were they growing comically large, as his fathers did as he grew older, but he also experienced the same problems with hearing as his father had. As a kid, he would see his father struggle in settings that involved lots of background noise. He would watch his father trying to keep up with conversations but clearly missing most of what was said.

He struggled to decide which aspect of his life was the most irritating at the moment. Everytime he thought things couldn't get worse, something happened that proved him wrong. "What do you mean my card has been cancelled?" he said, trying to keep the annoyance and panic out of his voice.

The cat stared at him from the corner of the room. He took a step towards it and it hissed. It has wedged itself under a shelf. It's skin was shiny and white. He had wondered what the cat would look like if it was bald and had shaved it.

He picked up the book in a secondhand shop in the back alleys of the town. He loved browsing these stores. All independent, run by people who knew their stuff. As soon as he opened the door his nostrils were greeted with the odour of old books.

"Tell me something new," she said. "Something I don't know." He sighed and pushed his head into the pillow, hiding from her and the world. He never knew what to say when she asked his to tell her something. He seemed so stupid compared to her.