The wheel keeps on spinning, and I keep on going. The smell of burned rubber is ignored. The car makes a strong statement via the knocking noise from behind. The clock reads 10:30 PM. Flat tire. Dark skies. No phone. Three hours later I'm home. It should have been 20 minutes.

Ivan! Ivan! How dare you go chasing after Charley and Frances? The tears and whining that you bring; may they be your downfall. I shall not run away.

Frances. Oh, Frances. Stop sobbing and whining. The trees can't take it anymore.