TenCentPistol
3 AM. You're still sitting in the window of your dank motel room, the drapes drawn only enough to poke your head through. You've been sitting for God Knows How Long holding a coffee that's only half-drunk and long cold.
It's pitch black aside from a glowing orange street light. It flickers and can barely illuminate part of the empty street. No movement, no sign of life.
3 AM and there's nothing but you and that fucking street light.