He shook her hands for the last time, and in an instant a thin film of sweat between their palms was all that connected the two of them. He couldn't look into her eyes; he turned around and got into his car. He could spot her silhouette in his rearview mirror as she stood before her burning headlights. As the skies wept, the winds howled and the dead leaves murmured in dissent as the tyres zoomed past them, he stared at her image in his rearview mirror, like a photograph traveling the journey of time, growing hazy and distant with every minute till she was a ghost of a shadow the image left on the mirror, a distant memory that time's left in his heart.