Her voice was an earworm burrowing under the recesses of reminiscence, penetrating through grey scar tissue of memory.

At inconvenient moments throughout the day, I could feel this parasite feeding upon the musty puddles in the pore spaces and fractures of My stale felicity. What was needed was an extermination–an excision was improbable.

I decided that My course of action would be a slow and deliberate deprivation of oxygen. Entombed in the solitude of My shadow lair, it was a mere matter of time before I would be resting in peace from its grubby pestilence.