The impulse to tell the truth was not as great as the fear of being left off the page.
Truth, Forgetting, Fear
How did it die?" he asked."Short circuit," I said. "Old and frayed wires."He looked at me like I was senile."Could have been disease. Violence. Or, sometimes, things die because we don't love them enough.
Love, Death
How could you love something so destructive?" I ask."Because this wolf doesn't care if your heart is whole or not," you say. "It tastes just the same.
Love, Heart, Destruction