We were somewhere around Moriarty on the edge of eastern New Mexico when the hell cloud began to take hold.
Jacob and I weren’t really sure what it was. The ocean? It couldn’t be. Just understanding what was bend across the distance challenged creative logic. It was white and titanic and rose over the coming horizon. The shape’s flatness disputed reality and disrupted the imagination.
We were quickly and utterly engulfed. It froze the air and perverted the quality of light. I stared in the rear view mirror to see green grass and blue sky clearly reflected vanish and be replaced with grey death and pale ghosts.
It was clearly the land of the dead. Earth had vanished. Souls had replaced the sky. Jacob suggested we were witnessing the ground event of nuclear winter. I thought of Odysseus speaking to shades. Maybe this was Hell.
A good start to a trip.