He doesn’t look at me – can’t look at me.
I stare past my reflection in the glass to see
street lights flickering past on empty concrete,
a road devoid of any movement.
Silence presides over the apprehensive gray chamber.
He waits.

I turn to see
his statuesque silhouette etched in the dim light
his marble hands clenching the wheel
his apprehensive and anguished face
his beautiful eyes blinking back the tears.
Gently, I rest my hand on his arm
and whisper reassurance.
His tears pour down with a thankful smile.