Wheels Driving through Nature

2:41 burned on the dash.

Diamond tears rolled back into the corner of John Doe’s eye at a blinking pace.

Outside, abyss pressured the black-coal landscape into a vortex forked by dull headlamps birthing a chain of pale reflectors, devoured.

Quadruple the wheels, the weight and size around the bend.

Animal magnetism approached.

Doe’s eyes lay heavy with weary, swimming through grassy medians

and opened to tears of blood.

The grill pressed on until all light was extinguished.

2:42 hung among a whirlwind of twisted hot metal.

Falling to grass and crawling to pavement, relieved, yet frightened by the unknown.

Hoses hissing, wheels spinning in air, burnt rubber, creaks and cracks permeated the dark

the rig came to a halt and the driver’s door opened.

Out fell a flattened frog, commanding attention;

appearing before the open gate flooded with self-emanating light.

a march of incomprehension.  Out came mutilated armadillos, dogs, deer, cats, and birds gripping intestines, dragging organs, losing blood, trying to hold together all they had whilst stepping in line from the truck and down upon the road.

They took hold of him, hoisting him up and carrying him like pallbearers back on to the trailer.

clear and vibrant, possibly resembling a midsummer day.

A green lush world awaited contemplation.

asphalt burned his paws

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