The abandoned railroad stretched before him. There was a bag at his waist, weighing him down slightly. Telephone poles stood like grim soldiers, watching him.

The pebbles shifted marginally as he started to walk away, back to his old life.

He’d never look back. It was now or never, and he had decided to take the now instead of never.

It was a hard choice, not returning.

This had to be done.

Many yards away from him, a young woman stood in the center of the tracks, holding a camera dejectedly in her tanned hands. Her face was tear-streaked, a mask that had set during the night.

Feeling her hands twitch with a familiar urge, she lifted the viewfinder to her right eye, forcing herself to center it perfectly on the man’s black figure.

She could see the satchel bouncing at his side.

Against all her better judgment, she pressed the capture button.

Another tear slipped down her face, its point of origin hidden by the camera.

When she took the device away, he was just a speck in the endless horizon.