He fell in an exhausted pile beside the warm heat of her. Triane let out a long sigh. It seemed so normal, except...

"Your hand?" he asked her. Triane let out another long sigh.

"I'm a many faceted person," she said. "There are parts that make up the whole."

"How many parts?" he said.

"More than friends and pitchers of beer, more than just Shakespeare or Dante or Milton, more than McCarthy, Marquez. We're all that way," she told him, "only I can't always hold it together."