The three sitting in the truck bed turned their faces towards the sky, the storm lamp casting its orange light over them.

One of them was the winged man, sitting with his large hands linked on his stomach and his long legs loosely crossed. He had, like the others in the truck, stripped to just a pair of tattered jeans in the smothering warmth. The man sitting across from him shared his brown skin and long nose, but the resemblance ended there; his hair was black and long rather than white and unruly, and he looked much older.

The third was the youngest; her skin was lighter, her hair brown and curly. The only thing that she shared with the other two in the truck bed was the same long, straight nose. She reclined in the corner of the bed, wearing a sports bra and cotton pants, staring up at the sky.

"Guess we should make a wish or something," she remarked. Beside her, the winged man sighed.

"I wish it'd rain," he said, and she nodded in agreement.

"Me too," the older man quipped, "You could use a shower."

The girl laughed; the winged man stretched a leg out to kick his brother gently. "Ass," he said, grinning.