They had nothing to say to each other, they stood on that same corner that they had stood almost twenty years ago, waiting for a bus, before all of those troubles began. He turned to the face he once knew so well and stared deep into her brown eyes, tiny crystal tears cascading down the cheeks that were numb with the cold of the biting wind. A million words overflowed each of their minds but neither their throats nor their tongues could form speech, the girl, now so much different than the child from all those years ago reached one delicate hand into a fold of her rich brown fur coat, covered in tiny flakes of snow. The old man blinked slowly and took the smallest step towards her. His back ached with age and his mind was awash with memories, images of a girl on a swing, her hair streaming behind her smiling face, then her back as she rushed down the stairs of their small house, a stuffed suitcase clunking along behind her, then the slamming door, that echoing sound that haunted his mind to this day, this day that he saw her again for the first time in so long. He blinked and snapped back to the quite street corner. Her hand jerked from her coat pocket and held up a small pistol to the man’s face. A bang that should have echoed through the streets and turned heads in curiosity and worry was muffled completely by the tiny crystals drifting to slowly to earth. From the clouds as grey as the face of the man lying on the curb, the blood slowly freezing to his forehead