A New Home in the Country

You continue to lie there, like a moron, the tire still around your waist, for hours and hours and hours because apparently you have nothing better to do other than feel sorry for yourself.

The owl keeps watching you for a bit but even owls have mice to eat, and it flies off. By the time you get up, it's dark out and you can barely see.

Well, until you see the headlights of another car pulling up to the barn.