The compound isn't the same without you. I spend the days drinking isolation fluid and cleaning my guns. I contemplate the silence between my hands. The sky is low and grey, the treetops black. It's been this way all day long. The trees are too quiet. The car is too wrecked to drive into town. It'll be dark pretty soon. I want to find something good on the radio. Something good on the radio to see me through the night. Something good to last me all night long.