I lived alone. Then Magda appeared. Her cold, green eyes look into me.
She has been watching me: she has selected me. She sleeks past into
my house. I fetch food which she devours. She sleeps. Night comes and
she leaves, returning the next morning.
That is how it is. I have what she requires: abject devotion.
She knows I long to touch, caress her. But she scorns me.
So I must only look on, as I do now, as she prepares herself
for the night. She ties back her black hair then leaves without a glance.