slayer-the:It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass,
slayer-the:It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second he breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on his face, was so precious: To think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time it dragged, and he was clinging to each second. -- source link