Malcolm's life had become nothing more than mundane repetition, a series of routine tasks from sunrise to sunset. Existence no longer required thought or effort. Life and death were inevitable birthrights, but love was a matter of luck. Hope had suffered extinction in his heart Somewhere in the desolate remains of a seemingly harmless man erupted a strong breeze-perhaps blown in by fate-and it smelled of her. It brought with it an obsession that would prove to be deadly. She was nothing more than an absent memory, an unattainable dream Malcolm had convinced himself he could never acquire, to...

Malcolm's life had become nothing more than mundane repetition, a series of routine tasks from sunrise to sunset. Existence no longer required thought or effort. Life and death were inevitable birthrights, but love was a matter of luck. Hope had suffered extinction in his heart Somewhere in the desolate remains of a seemingly harmless man erupted a strong breeze-perhaps blown in by fate-and it smelled of her. It brought with it an obsession that would prove to be deadly. She was nothing more than an absent memory, an unattainable dream Malcolm had convinced himself he could never acquire, to...

Maybe she's jilted you . . ." It was an impossible suggestion but after an hour, Owen secretly considered the possibility. The guests were understandably annoyed by the delay. Bridesmaids were no longer standing single file, instead they'd huddled up- gossiping about the bride's whereabouts. The pastor, concerned, clutched his bible; preparing to offer spiritual support should she never show. Owen hands were shaking, "Something's wrong. I can't feel her anymore..." he said to Trent, the best man. Owen pretended to believe Trent's reassurance but deep down inside Owen knew something had gone...