Give the downbeat, cuing the introduction to the tragically flawed damsel in distress; heroless. Night. Dark and dreamy,stark and dreary, one hungry soul prowling through the reckage of a promised evening. Slightly daunted, nearly haunted, he staggers and sways in the wake of her walk; ego fighting to stand stalwart. She laughs and bends her finger. He comes. They always do. Hungrily she uncovers his secrets, derobes his pride and accomplishments and leaves him naked in a crowded room of people more like 'him'. She lures him into her intricate web and wraps him with her silver thread. Rub two legs together and spark a fire; suffocate it till its dead. The glass is half-empty; always leave them wanting more. She walks away--satisfied. For now.