He shrugged. "And every breath is one closer to your last. You gotta have dreams, you stop dreaming you die."
She walked to him and kissed him on the mouth, hard, a kiss that tasted of nicotine and spite, almost biting. Before he could react she was gone, out of the apartment. He came to the window, watched her shadow falling across the street. He watched for a long time.
Kirk Israel, June 1994