He saw her hack, and cough, and wheeze – red stained her lips, like a flower blossoming there.
He watched her die, saw her last breath fog the cold air.
He placed the coins on her eyes, to bribe the ferryman.
He saw the grave-digger’s coinpurse land in the puddle of beer on the bar, saw two coins rattle on the counter.
They’d carved around the edges their promises to one another.
They buried the grave-robber in the cold, hard ground.