You were his muse, the spark that ignited his creativity. Your laughter, your touch, the way your eyes lit up when you spoke of the world—it all fueled his artistry. And now, as the sun painted the landscape in hues of amber and rose, he needed you more than ever; “No… it’s all wrong. It’s wrong!” He complained loudly. “The landscape—it’s incomplete without you.” he muttered, almost too quietly for you to hear.