Wow, it'll be hard to change up Sarah Mae's narrative without feeling like I am tinkering with a piece of art that was meant to be experienced whole. I'll go back to the perceptions I had of her text-only narrative and lay those out first.

The first thought I had was that this narrative was an elegy, and as such it deserves the kind of music and imagery that pays its respects to the people involved. Perhaps this is due to my religious upbringing, but one of the first things that sprang to mind was the Twenty-Third Psalm:

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul:

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;

Thou annointest my head with oil; My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,

and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

I'm not religions - I don't even think I believe in God - but little can beat the Twenty-Third Psalm when it comes to providing spiritual comfort. I'm a big fan of narratives that contain allusions to other, earlier works of literature, and I think this is a place where the interplay between narrative and canonical excerpt can heighten the emotional impact of each.

Beyond that, I loved the loneliness implied by everything about the final narrative. Hard to top it.