This is so dirty and pathetic...!

He grinds his teeth and walks hastily up the slope. The bag weighing down his shoulder is pathetically light. Even though he stuffed in everything in sight, it's barely anything. A few clothes, a jar of cream, and the cash he hid from you were all he had. Every time the worn-out soles scraped the ground, the sound of clinking coins was loud.

The plan—starting with taking the last bus to the city—was something he had chewed over every day until he knew it by heart, but choosing today of all days was a pure, wretched impulse. When he realized that only he and that tree stood tall on the night road lit only by sparse streetlamps, a chill ran down his spine.