A green and swelling moon over a tree choked with kudzu tells poor Respite Welk it's time to go home and go to sleep. Pultenham County is closing its eyes and praying for dreams.
Respite takes a last look at the shattered body on the ground before him, jingles the keys in his pocket, bids a quiet "good evening" to Sheriff Morgan and begins his slow walk home.
The seven lights of Dyerville look a little like a constellation and Respite Welk remembers red wine-live jazz-smoky club nights full of laughter with friends under bright lights back in Albany, seeming like a lifetime ago now. The heat of summer in Pultenham County covers his memories like a damp wool blanket and anything that even thinks of trying to gasp for air can just go right to hell.
It is a very slow walk home. Always a very slow walk back home.