The two friends were glued to him. Each breath of words he exhaled were gold to them. He had less problem parting with the sad treasures in his memories. It was more that they should see him shiver and cry.

Great drops of water formed on top of his head, long before those windows to his soul perspired. He was squeezing every muscle he had, to keep from losing one of those diamonds.

And they were diamonds. For when they had finally come, his eyes were more beautiful than Sheba’s in all her glory.

But men don’t long to be beautiful. They long to be strong. Above all else.

Diamonds were weak. That’s why they were given to girls. Not to other men.

But the diamonds came. The oceans were upon his eyes. It could not be helped.

Or else it could not be helped.

He could not be helped.

But men also want to survive.

Life is better than strength.

The oceans were upon his eyes.

And so he was helped.

And so they loved him more.