The lights of the city streaked off below him like the luminous spokes of a warped wheel. An indistinctly outlined pearly moon seemed to drip down the sky like a clot of incandescent tapioca thrown up against the night by a cosmic comic. He lit the after-the-dance, while-waiting-for-her-to-come-back cigarette. He felt good, looking down at the town that had nearly had him licked once. "I'm all set now" he thought "I'm young. I've got love. I've got a clear track. The rest is a cinch".