And so It was told through the eyes of the boys, sickened with such love they could barely see through the veil of that misplaced love. Perhaps those forbidden angels did so, enchanted there unknowing souls to such an extent those boys turned to men and became stricken with a nostalgic aura. A nostalgic aura in a way that anything could trigger the memory of those lost beauties Hyena like-laughter, the clamour of cherry-wood beads, the sniffling of a nose, the scruff of a toothbrush against wool, or perhaps the simple scratch of a pen on paper. Anything, even the unforgiving stench of anothers breath that seemingly made them closer to the Lisbon's because of the stench that permeated there house after the confinement began. Those boys who single mindly thought the girls ever needed their help. Perhaps what they planned they needed not even the boys, but each other. For within each other's warm, glowing embrace they found love and trust and simply a feeling of belonging. Those hapless girls were addled in their thoughts of reality. Blurred reality, a distant dream, a broken record, and a shattered mirror.