Max laid the net at Lily’s feet. “See? I trawled the whole world for words of love. It’s my gift to you.”
Lily shivered. “It’s a net, Max. I’m not a fish.”
He stared at her.
“Max, listen. All words trap meaning, and all nets trap, but your love’s a noun, a need, a list, a demand: dead, Max. But love’s a verb, living, giving. I told you before, I love someone else.”
“Not possible.”
“Believe me, it’s over, Max.”
He filled it with stones and tossed it away. Next day a cop knocked.
His net had hooked a corpse.
Author’s Note: Dorothy L. Sayers inspired this story, some passing comment on words made by her witty detective Lord Peter Wimsey.
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