The driver shakes his head, vigorously; but he can neither lose the phantom afterimages of the army trucks nor the sense that all appearances have become detached from their reality. His thoughts turn once again to the murderous. The driver’s belief that this is all part of a dream, like trudging through an absurd nightmare, will make it easy to kill. So easy, in fact, that he is at the verge of understanding how Paula's killer did it in the first place. Murder is easy when nothing feels real. The driver is about to understand the murder of his fiancée.

“Now I see!” He jumps. And in a quieter, more timid, turn of thought, “Ah’m really losin it”, almost afraid of what he might think of next.