When she drove around the last curve, the old adobe ruins came into view. “Funny,” she thought, “how my life had changed so dramatically, and yet this place seemed just the same.” She sat, cross-legged, near the doorway of the ancient structure and looked out across the desert to the ragged peaks that lined the horizon under the full moon. Maybe, if she closed her eyes, closed out the sounds of night creatures and cars on the expressway, she could imagine the smoke dancing up from the campfire, hear the strumming of his guitar. The wind was colder now, she thought, the mountains, somehow seemed further away. She wiped a tear as it glided down her weathered cheek. The ruins of her life hadn’t stood the test of time like this special, haunting place.