Tired, he looks at her as she walks in litter, searching a seventh time around that roadsign.
"Can we go back to the car?"
"So you think I'm crazy?"
"No. Could've been a homeless who..."
"Wasn't a look alike - was him!"
She interrupts, screaming. He tries ignoring it, spit hitting his cheeks as she screams, the tantrum hell. He takes a deep breath.
"WHY would he hang around a highway! HE HATED TRAFFIC ALMOST AS MUCH AS HE HATED US," he shouts, holding her lightly.
"He's gone! Be happy," he says, squeaking.