It was raining.

Michal had been driving for too many hours – he felt tired. It was just past midnight; pitch-black and wet. Nothing but thick forest surrounded the road – trees created scarred, black walls around it. Michael had gotten dangerously used to following the yellow line segments diving under his car, one after another. He could have probably killed himself by falling asleep, yet maybe he wouldn't have even noticed a difference – not the worst way to go.

The smooth damped sound of rain made him all the more sleepy, so he turned on the radio to get some mental exercise. He heard music and some kind of talk show – maybe something else too, but everything sounded either like music or monotone speech. Since the melodies were way too relaxing, Michael chose the talk show in order to stay awake. Apparently the host and his guest were talking about math.

"...with it. So assume that A, B and C are positive integers. We also assume that N is a positive integer greater than two – in other words, N is at least three. Now, the following is true: C to the power of N does not equal the sum A to the power of N plus B to the power of N."

"...oh, so it's impossible? Didn't expect that."

"Indeed – instead of an equality, this problem has a bit more rare inequality. Or rather, the problem states what can not be. These types of problems tend to be really hard to solve."

"So how hard is this one?"

"Well, if you have two months to spare, we could go through the proof..."

Michael squinted his eyes – radio helped a bit, but not enough; he needed coffee. He had passed some billboards before entering the thicker part of the forest, and if his memory served, there was supposed to be a diner along the road. It was a bit hard to believe, since the area seemed very secluded: Michael hadn't seen any signs of life in several hours. Then again, it was possible that people working with practical logistics kept the business viable enough.

Time passed slowly; Michael stared past the windshield wipers, wondering if he would ever reach another crossroads. He had taken a glance at a map of the region – there was supposed to be a city nearby, but it was possible he had missed an important turn at some point. After a steep downhill he saw distant glittering of light – orange, warm shine got filtered through the trees. Soon Michael found its source: a diner, standing next to its small parking lot in the middle of nowhere. Its brightness created strong, even dream-like contrast for the black rainy night. Michael turned on the parking lot and got surprised: a jeep was standing in the middle of it – seemed like he hadn't been driving completely alone.

Michael parked the car and stepped out – clean air smelled heavenly, but the rain drops felt freezing on his neck. He hurried to the diner's front door and pulled it open, enjoying the instant scent of coffee and pastry. The interior was coloured with calming shades of brown, gray and white. There were some paintings hanging on the ceiling, depicting urban landscapes bathing in the light of setting sun. One of the paintings was different, since it presented a forest shrouded in fog. A white name tag was placed under the painting: J. Coeman - Misty, it stated.

There was no one else present – not even a clerk. Michael fiddled his wallet until a young woman appeared behind the counter. She was wearing a red T-shirt and black jeans; her long dark hair formed a ponytail.

"Evening, sir. How may I help you?" the woman asked – she almost sang as she talked.

"Coffee" Michael said tiredly.

"That'll be one fifty."

Michael gave the woman two dollar bills.

"Keep the change", he said, and picked up a paper cup.

"Thank you sir. Enjoy your coffee" the woman responded and disappeared behind a gray door. Michael filled the cup with black coffee, added some cream and sat at the closest table with a window right next to it. He stared at the glass pane – at the darkness outside, the veins of water running on the outer surface, and his own face. None of these sights was too pleasant, so Michael paid attention to the coffee – the strong taste was surprisingly good.

Door opened – not the front door, but the one leading to the diner's rest room. A man wearing an olive green rain coat stepped out and started walking along the aisle. He seemed middle-aged; his hair was gray and his expression tired. Michael wasn't too interested in analyzing this stranger, but still a bit interested – if only for the fact that this man was travelling in the middle of the night as well. The man stopped next to Michael's table and turned towards him.

"Excuse me…I need some instructions."

His voice was quite low; there was weird strength behind it. This would have been hard to expect based on his looks alone.

"Do you happen to have a map with you?"

"…I do" Michael said bluntly. He did own a large map of the area, which he had stored in his jacket's roomy inside pocket.

"May I..." the man started yet didn't finish this request, as Michael pulled the map out and set it on the table in front of him.

"Ah, thank you" he said and started folding the paper. Michael stared at him, wondering where the man was headed. It did seem like this stranger understood his luck: in the middle of the night, the only other customer at the diner had been able to help him.

"I'm sorry, but do you know where are at the moment?" the man asked. Michael set his finger on the map and pointed at a road diving in the forest.

"This road" he said.

"I see...yes, very good" replied the man – though it sounded like he was talking to himself. He started moving his lips without making any sounds.

"Good…yes…" the man said. He sounded a bit relieved.

"I can't thank you enough. Thought I'd get lost in the night..."

The man seemed to wait for some kind of response from Michael, but it never arrived.

"I'll leave you alone now. Once again, thank you."

Michael tasted his coffee.

"Keep the map" he said. The man stared at him for couple of seconds.

"Really? You don't need it?"

"No."

"You know where to go."

Michael nodded. The stranger was naturally puzzled by his quiet courtesy.

"Well...I'm very happy to take your offer…thank you. I really appreciate this."

Michael stayed quiet as the man walked to the door and stepped in the rain – he seemed to be in a hurry. Michael followed his bowed character until it reached the jeep. A set of bright lights flashed and got lost in the darkness as the man drove away. It could have been interesting to learn more about this stranger – after all, he and the clerk were the first people Michael had talked to in a very long time.

Michael kept drinking his coffee and staring at the various surfaces around him. It was a bit boring, so his interest was caught by a newspaper lying on the neighbouring table. He picked it up and read the biggest headline: Meyer house burns down – two dead. The article described an accidental fire, presumably caused by negligent use of candles. It was a bit bleak to learn about other people's problems, but also enjoyable – in the most subtle way. Michael kept reading the paper for a while until he was satisfied. He returned it on the table, noticing a small object on the opposite bench – some kind of plastic-looking item was lying there.

Michael picked up a small, rectangular photo, which depicted a young boy, maybe 10 years old. He was standing in sunlight, leaning against a metallic railing and squinting his eyes. Behind him, there were steep hills covered in trees – it seemed like the picture had been taken during summer time. In general, Michael didn't find the photo significant, but he did get a bit interested: had someone just forgotten the picture, or was it left there on purpose? Michael turned the photo around, revealing a short sentence written on the back:

Leo

I'm always too late

Michael read the text couple of times, being very aware of his obvious inability to understand the meaning behind it. This didn't really bother him, but it did add to his quiet interest: he took out his wallet, slipped the picture inside it and returned to his table.

Michael drank rest of his coffee, and decided to get another cup.

It was still raining.

Michael was back on the road, following the yellow line segments, listening to the talk show (God forbid, they were still talking about the math problems) and enjoying the low, muffled roar of the weather. Forest got pulled a tiny bit further away from the road, but the night just got darker.

Michael passed a sudden turn left, and got interested: he was quite tired of driving along the same road, so he considered turning the car around. While considering, he had to lower his speed as a set of bright yellow lights appeared in front of him. There was a row of traffic cones prohibiting further progress. A white van was parked behind them – as Michael stopped his car, a man wearing reflective vest stepped out of the van and walked to him. Michael rolled down the door's windshield and got almost startled by the rain's wet yelling.

"Good evening, sir!" the man shouted over the weather.

"We are repairing the bridge behind the turn – it's out of use for now. There is a turn north right behind you. Take it, and after couple of miles you will find another turn – it will lead you back to this road. You understand?"

Michael nodded.

"Drive safe!" the man said and started walking back to the van. It was a bit surprising altogether: as soon as Michael finally found a turn, he was forced to take it. He turned the car around and backtracked to the crossroads. The new road led uphill; forest got a bit thicker.

Time passed slowly; Michael stared past the windshield wipers, wondering if he would ever reach the alleged turn. Was it possible he had just missed it? It was dark and so on, but he still had some faith in his own senses. He kept driving, passing some high rock formations. The talk show had already ended – it was replaced by smooth music, which made Michael a bit sleepy again. He changed the channel, and got startled – radio's output turned into distorted mess; a chaotic collection of broken sounds. Michael turned the whole thing off, as it gave him headache. He started breathing heavily; the car had become way too warm.

Michael squinted his eyes, as a faint touch of nausea hit him. It was clearly too dangerous to keep driving in such ill condition, so he decided to find a suitable parking place – this was difficult, since the road had become a narrow path between high cliffs and a deep valley. Michael heard his phone ringing, but didn't have time to answer the call – his car was suddenly pulled to left with violent, metallic howling. He hit the brakes as one of the headlights bumped against a large stone – the glass got shattered, yet the light was left on. Michael uttered strong curses and swiped cold sweat from his forehead. He took a flashlight out of the glove compartment and stepped outside.

Turned out that a curved piece of scrap metal was buried inside the left tire – the whole thing was torn open. Michael took out his phone in order to call help, but there was no field. He checked the call list, but it was empty – despite the phone ringing a moment ago. He looked around for a while, which was rather pointless because of the darkness. The situation seemed quite desperate – yet somewhat luckily, the car had gotten stopped next to the road; on a small area without pavement, so at least no one would crash into it. It was possible that some other driver would appear and save Michael's night, yet it was also unlikely due to the nighttime. He saw only one option: sleeping. It was a good option too, since he still felt sick. Therefore, Michael went back inside, turned off the engine and closed his eyes. He fell asleep in mere minutes while listening to the rain's humming.