Trusting that the driver knew the way, he allowed the sights and sounds to meld into the blackness of his skull and all at once, it was dark and silent.
Consciousness slipped through his coarse fingers as his hands slumped to the side in utter exhaustion.
He slept for an eternity, but as vision returned for a fleeting second he saw that he remained at the same traffic light.
The drone of the engine, the drearily monotonous sound of engineered steel bore holes through his skull, once again allowing consciousness to seep away.
Sleep stroked it's silky fingers through his shadowy hair, gently raking it's nails over his cold scalp.
He dreamt dreams he would never recall, thought thoughts which he could never retell.
Yet when he awoke with a jerk to the blare of a horn, though mountains he'd scoured and dragons he'd slain, it was only mere meters he'd travelled that day.
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