tonight, the fog was so cut-it-with-a-knife thick that when i pulled onto the off ramp, i thought i was driving to heaven. my off ramp slants up, you see, and is under a series of lights bright enough to barely illuminate the fog. this wasn't a metaphor in the moment, no--in one of those awesome tricks my brain likes to play at the end of a very very long day, i actually thought for a breath that i was driving to heaven. it was a happy breath.
then i turned the corner, went down the same distance i upped, and remembered where on earth i was, though i couldn't see an earthly thing. i determined that home is the place that you still know how to find, even in the fog, and i was happy then too.
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