081413 #worm The truck rumbles on away from the night. Dawn approaches. Somewhere out there is a context to put all this in, but Him and Me don't have to worry about that yet. They may never not have to worry about it again. It does not occur to them to try to analyze the odd privelege of their situation; they both appreciate the moment with wordless ease. Him's arm is around Me's shoulders. They are buried to the neck in everyone else's excrement. They are broke and exhausted. Dried come makes their skin prick against their clothes. They don't know where they will get dumped out. They have never been happier.