The sticky hot southern air makes your trek seem much worse than it really was. The mosquitoes swarm you while the low sun illuminates the fading pinks and golds of the sunset. As you walk alone along the thoroughfare, you get so lost in your own thoughts you don’t even hear his truck slow down beside you. Isaiah rolls his window down with a big friendly smile and waves at you.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Ya need a ride?”