Laying in the darkness he could feel a single tear at the brim of his eye. It had only half left his but the air made it cool and he could feel it beginning to dissolve into his cheek. "This would make for great writing," he thought as he began to get up from his bed. "But what about great living? What will make for that?" And he relaxed and layed back down. The dreamt stories of spending the sunset barefoot in the sand over a bottle of wine shared straight from the bottle awaited him.