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I was hitching to Denver from Tulsa, and my last ride had put me out on the west bound highway at an interchange about midnight. Traffic was so light, that it didn't remain at that period of night, and it was starting to sprinkle rain, with flashes of lighting illuminating a heavy bank of clouds told me it was about to do more than sprinkle. There was nothing I could do but trudge along on the verge of the highway, and hope for the best. I was tired, and decided to try to find some cover to get some rest.

The night was pitch black except for the flashes of lightning in the distance, but I thought that I'd eventually arrive to a culvert or overpass or something, and kept walking. Gradually, I became aware of low voices. It sounded like they were somewhere ahead of me, and I began to wonder if there was a wagon somewhere ahead in the dark with its lights off. I kept walking.

As I got closer to the cause of the talking, I realized it must be the culvert I'd been hoping for to get out of the rain. As I stepped onto the bridge over it, I could see a dim flicker o