The low rumble of rubber on tarmac, trees flashing past, silent witnesses to time. The radio chattering at him as he wove his way home, the light of the day slowly brightening. His eyes felt heavy. It had been a long night, cold and wet. He was thankful for the hat she had bought him just last Christmas, its warmth and protection from the slow, constant drizzle a comfort. Not long now, he thought, the miles drifting by as...