It was raining as they pulled out of town, dispirited, dismayed. Bike engines thrummed; wheels skidded; they knew they’d never be this way again. And if no one ever whispered his name it’d still be too soon for them. How could he be dead?
“Why so glum?” asked the stranger.
They let their engines idle, walked awhile. “Didn’t you read? That guy they killed—they murdered—he was our friend.”
“More than that,” said the other. “Jesus! He was gonna change the world and they blew him away.”
“Why so glum?” asked the stranger and proceeded to change the world.