Blood red, it trickled down like a lost memory trickles down the world of existence. It need not have been shed, but it was. It was shed on the unfortunate demise of Mr. Darryl.
The forgotten welcomed it into their home, deep down it lay at the roots. At the roots of the big banyan tree. The home of the tears shed. There were many, many indeed. Each carried the reason. The reason that separated the chaste from the rest. They never die. Those reasons. They never die. They will come back, those reasons to cry!