There is something perfect about this photo. The light, the perspective, the sense of emptiness. Where did the driver go? What is the significance of the split in the white line? And for the first time since taking this photograph in April, I see myself in the mirror. What else is there full of symbolic menace? It is the start of an Antonioni movie [The Passenger?]. It is the image at the start of my next play, Tina! It is the end of my memoirs! It is ...well? What do you think?