the only light was the flickering rays of our own lamps , in which the steam from our hard-driven horses rose in a white cloud . his arms and legs were still bound . dark spots and colored flashes swirled through his vision . he claimed they traveled over a thousand miles per hour . i think ninety percent of life is simply being human . it would be another couple of hours before the crowds really built up . he starts to get up and grab for something under his jacket . i shoved my hair off my forehead . 