Driving home through the empty streets
The drive home was quiet, save for the rhythmic thumping of the windshield wipers. Christmas lights twinkled from the houses I passed, creating a stark contrast to my mood.
The roads were mostly empty, allowing me to make good time despite the slick conditions. I finally turned onto Elm Street and pulled up to my modest bungalow.
It looked small and dark, but right now, it offered the only peace I wanted. I parked the car and killed the engine.