A picture paints … well, as many words as you like. For instance:
I lost him.
It was as simple as that.
I had been led a merry chase up the hill, and all the time he was getting away in a different direction.
I’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book, letting my desire for revenge render me blind to the disguise that anyone else would see through in an instant.
It was a lonely sight, looking down that road, knowing that I had to go all that way down again, only this time, without having to throw caution to the wind.
Maybe not. The car’s gearbox was going to wear the worst of my temper.