looking for motion i know i will not find
The thought is far from revolutionary. She looks back, a smile on her face, for a last glimpse at the man who gave her everything, whether it truly came to yielding fruition or not. He who was prepared to do so for as much time as he had remaining, and who would fight tooth and nail for his right to more, and more, and more.
Both the greedy and the desperate were entirely motionless, unsure of where to step next, what ugly, ignoble, conflicted impulse to let guide.
But she knew it would be alright, whether by hope or not.