To Chaos

Snow from nowhere pastes itself to the car, clouding judgement, separating the inside from the darkness. Hollow lights drive at us from their unique origins. They illuminate the snow as it falls in its mad decent, sped up by the sheer speed of us. Vague outlines of trees stand guard of the darkness.

A twinkle catches my groggy eyes: A galaxy of stars taken from space and into a B.C valley. The town is surrounded by darkness and disappears with each left we take.

It has stopped snowing.

Too much snow was caught in the dismal beam of headlights.

We're descending into the galaxy.

It's the first time we've encountered civilization in hours.

And I feel so far removed.

We take a series of rights, and the lights stay behind us.

This moment, this feeling was written for me over a century before: I'm heading into the heart of an immense darkness. 

The windows fog again and even the dim glow of the headlights becomes unclear.

I sit here in this darkness with only my words and my thoughts of you, the Beatles' humming gently in my ear, tempting me away from the edge of a bad idea.