A mere plot device

Right now, she allows the dark tones and lyrics of the song Atlantic wash over her. A few hours prior to this, her body had curled into a tight foetal position in an empty office. She had clutched onto her stomach and wailed out the hurt, the betrayal, the grief that wracked her being.

The triggers don't really matter.

It doesn't matter if it is a small child, an older man, a young handsome fella... God uses all people and all souls as mere plot devices.

She played the villain in so many other people's stories.

And... she was tired.



I hope all my days
Will be lit by your face
I hope all the years
Will hold tight our promises

I don't wanna be old and sleep alone
An empty house is not a home
I don't wanna be old and feel afraid

I don't wanna be old and sleep alone
An empty house is not a home
I don't wanna be old and feel afraid

And if I need anything at all

I need a place
That's hidden in the deep
Where lonely angels sing you to your sleep
Though all the world is broken

I need a place
Where I can make my bed
A lover's lap where I can lay my head
Cos now the room is spinning
The day's beginning

atlantic... keane