Inch thick dust soaking into your pores and the strain of tendons and muscles as you mount the last step with the heavy box. The falling droplets of water, dotting everything and drenching to the skin. The steady lull of windshield wipers and a hazy rain that fogs the window. A metal grate and a ten foot drop. I look through the iron bars, down to the pit below. The lion’s den. The still water mirrors everything, and the gray night sky provides the perfect backdrop. A cool breeze, finally. It’s time to say goodbye. But I just want to sit and stare.