The fog devoured everything in its path.
I drove willingly into it.
The fog ingested my thoughts as well.
I was in a tight, white low cloud
thinking of the extension of my day
and smiling faces and parts of speech.
Condensation jumped on my windshield
and clung along for the ride.
Changing lanes, gears shifting, country singing, coffee sipping,
fog dreaming of lazy Saturdays and space mountains,
suicidal goats, monster pancakes and butter mohawks.
The fog abates but your still here.