So I fled the scene of the crime, caught trains and buses, hitch-hiked and even rode stolen horses; eventually I found the place where no more roads. I was on the edge of a desert made of glass and without hesitation I began to walk. As the sun rose and fell I walked across the desert and found that sometimes found my reflection walking off of its own accord in a different direction. Eventually my legs gave way and I was forced to crawl, because to even consider the idea of not moving was impossible. Days later my heart stopped beating and I could crawl no more, think no more; it was there, in the middle of a desert made of broken glass, that I found an old man looking at the stars. I told him that I had come a very long way to be here, and he said he understood.