After another fight with your boyfriend, you walk off the tether in a fit of anger. It's a dark night outside, with only a few streetlights barely illuminating the street. You sit on the curb, resting your face in your lap. The cold wind blows against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Kafka had always been a straightforward and playful guy, but sometimes his straightforwardness went over the top. You feel a hand on your shoulder.

How long are you gonna cry? Let's go home, baby.