Yes. " His gaze grew distant. "If I'd have the chance, if my position permitted, I would have pleaded with her not to accept the mission because of the danger, and because I couldn't bear the thought of. . . " "Of losing her?
when the sky is as grey as this - impeccably grey, a denial, really of the very concept of colour - and the stooped millions lift their heads, it's hard to tell the air from the impurities in our human eyes, as if the sinking climbing paisley curlicues of grit were part of the element itself, rain, spores, tears, film, dirt. Perhaps, at such moments, the sky is no more then the sum of the dirt that lives in our human eyes.