He hung up the phone, visualizing the colours of her eyes. Blue under the sky. Green beneath the trees. Grey amongst the limestone. And they were always so kind to him. Never once did they scorn what they saw in his soul…The vices and vagaries…The fractious darkness…The self-absorption…The poisonous doubts and fears. He simply could not fathom her endless patience and kindness, and therefore he put her up on the proverbial pedestal—the very place she did not want to be, because she wanted to show him that he could be loved for who he was by a real person. Up there, however, in the dizzying reaches of his self-deception, nothing could ever be real.