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It was cool, with a light spit of rain in the dark touching first his arms and then his face. Robert lifted his face to the blackness above. No stars, no breeze, the clouds heavy-feeling in the air, but unseen.
He was walking away from work. He had a destination, but felt suddenly that he wanted to break out of what was expected of him.
There was a home, with a porch light on: his lodgement for the past five years. He had a wife and children. He had a job--a copy rewriter for a media company.
Tomorrow it would be his anniversary--seven years in the same employment. Personal debts stretched out for seven years more, his mortgage for twenty, but ...