The road was deserted, lizards and snakes roamed there. Around him, the mountains rose like dead towers. Only he and his car, driving fast, escaping from a dark past, in search of a better future. The sun burned tires and blind his vision. The sun was his only companion. While traveling he remembered the last kiss from his wife, now dead. Their children were taken by his uncle. He had nothing in this life, only his bottle of whiskey and his old car. Many times he thought about ending it all, fast, clean, no more problems, no more sadness. He was a broken man. In some other place, if things had been different, if only he had a chance, if only … but he needed money, he had to support his wife, his children, feed them, give them an education. Poverty blinded him and he has no other choice. He started to theft, first with some passersby, then step by tents. The last thing he did was break into houses, dismantle them. He felt guilty, but there was no turning back. He started working for the Mafia, doing dirty jobs. When he decided to leave it, the mob killed his wife, his uncle took custody of his children. Nothing remains for him, he was empty, has lost his soul, had come last in the race of life. Now his only option was to go, far, far away, start somewhere else. He put in some clothes and left the city. In the sky, the sun burned the asphalt.