There was only the road, stretching on towards the horizon, carving its way through the knee-high brush. Grass heavy with seed nodded dozy heads towards the sky, where the sun hid behind clouds and leant the world a queer blue-grey hue. There were footprints in the dust. Shallow indents that marked the slow passing of feet, heavy with dirt and the detritus of a life lived with blood and ended with the same.