There is a term I rather like... dirty angels. I think it fits well here. Assassin for the cause or a soldier following orders, it is all so very gray. I gave this piece the working title of "Weightless" and as it developed I tried to figure out why I did that. Why is this bringer of blood standing there? Why is he simply staring at his blade in a doorway of light?
Has he grown so accustomed to this moment that he hopes for remorse but simply finds his conscience does not bother anymore. Maybe that is it.
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"That famous ring that pricked its owner when he forgot duty and followed desire--I wonder if it pricked very hard when he set out on the chase, or whether it pricked but lightly then, and only pierced to the quick when the chase had long been ended, and hope folding her wings, looked backward and became regret?"