She drove. The fog was thick and the road was empty. She had the heater on, but it took a long time to turn warm in this old bomb of a car. She watched the streetlights appear out of the fog and get brighter as they came closer. She felt a sudden understanding of perspective and lines and wish she’d understood this when her art teacher had tried to explain it back in year nine. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be an architect now. Nothing mattered. She drove, watching the streetlights and wishing she was heading anywhere but the hospital. She drove.