Eternally down-on-his-luck guy outrunning some kind of tragedy he's not willing to explain. He lives in his truck, travelling endlessly across the USA, in no particular rhythm or order. In some places he busks for money for gas and smokes and when he plays guitar, it's clear he could maybe have been pretty decent in a band at some point, if that had been in the cards for his life. But, maybe it was, once? Maybe it ended. Or maybe it was an idle dream. Who's to say?

Life, for him, has fallen into a comfortable - if disconcerting - and resigned, depressive rhythm for a long while, years on years of doing his insect-caught-under-a-rock routine, when he meets someone else who needs a place to go while out on the east coast. They both seem to recognize the other, somehow, and he takes them in. And slowly, with time, together, they both begin to heal.