It was a dark and stormy evening. My windshield wipers worked hard to clear the wall of water obscuring my view. I stopped to pick up a bedraggled hitchhiker. No one should be out in this weather.
As I inched my way along the empty highway, we chatted.
'What do you do?' I asked.
'Here,' he replied as he held up his phone. 'I'll show you.'
I forgot the road ahead as he flicked through his photos. Each one showed a different driver, slumped in their car seat, with their throat cut.