Windows are down - feeling the little drizzles sweeping past our flowing hair - cool fresh breeze singing its melody in our ears - weather is gloomy, filled with misty dews - with every mile a new rhythm involuntarily moves our fingertips on the beats - twilight is visible and on the brink to fade away - inside the place is warm, outside it's pouring close - no destination to reach to - no quest to compete to - no one waiting for us to come - because we're home already.