They drove in the rain. The pair of them were silent as the wipers swept the water from the sheet glass. Through the landscape, they cut their path. Much like an advertisement there were no other vehicles on the road. Everything about them was transitional. Thinking was unclear, the temperature high. Not even the destination was on their minds. They just drove. That was it. His hands on the wheel, her sat hunched in the passenger seat. It was as though they had had a raging argument. The climate was the determining factor in whether they would talk. Conversation took energy. Thought sapped reserves. It was hot. So they sat there, in silence, driving.