Wrinkles formed upon the flesh of each robber. “What’s happening?” They simultaneously cried. Horrified, throwing his fingers before his face, the first man saw his fingers wrinkle, and shrivel, his young face now that of an old man. His fingers reduced to dust, along with his arms, body, and legs. Now a white statue of loosely bound flakes, he collapsed and blew away in a light wind, along with the bodies of his two allies suffering the same fate. Seeing the highwaymen’s tragic end horrified Peter not as he had expected. Calm, he felt his rage vindicated, and their punishment justified. Shaking his head, he took a deep peaceful breath. Maybe it was as Laura posited in his dream. Perhaps, he was changing. Raising his eyebrows, Peter tucked his bottom lip. Clicking his tongue, Peter nudged his heels into the horse’s flanks. He rode away.