Obligation’s grasping talons have unpicked her weave. She is what is left, a hole, hanging in space, without even its own circumference to define it. She gapes. She gapes, a hole so torn, so frayed, immense, unbounded. A hole for herself to fall through. A hole so unlike a grave, bottomless, infinite. An endless falling, and no one there who will raise their arms to catch her, nor any ground on which to break.