Conor had needed it and his need had somehow called it. And it had come walking. Just for this moment.
“You’ll stay?” Conor whispered to the monster, barely able to speak.
“You’ll stay until…” “I will stay,” the monster said, its hands still on Conor’s shoulders.
“Now all you have to do is speak the truth.” And so Conor did.
He took in a breath. And, at last, he spoke the final and total truth.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said, the tears dropping from his eyes, slowly at first, then spilling like a river.
“I know, my love,” his mother said, in her heavy voice. “I know.”
He could feel the monster, holding him up and letting him stand there.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said again. And that was all he needed to say.
He leaned forward onto her bed and put his arm around her. Holding her.
He knew it was here, and soon, maybe even this 12.07. The moment she would slip from his grasp, no matter how tightly he held on.
“But not this moment,” the monster whispered, still close. “Not just yet.”
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