This is just a little something to make you think. Feel free to share your impressions.
The world is covered by a low-hanging fog as twilight approaches. This creates a weird silvery light, on my evening commute. I am taking a winding shortcut through the hills on my way home. I have driven this road hundreds if not thousands of times.
Rounding one of the winding curves, music playing, I am transported somewhere else. The world becomes a translucent void. My radio loses reception, changing to a static noise that hurts the ears. I fumble, my hand shaking, as I reach over to turn down the volume.
The road straightens out. What just happened? My hands grip the steering wheel a bit tighter, the familiar faux leather under my fingers is a strange comfort. The road is oddly frightening in its perfect straightness. This isn't a part of the plan.
The weird light has grown brighter in this strange place. Nothing is as it seems. Everything is whitewashed in translucent light. Color has been sucked from this world. The trees, at their greenest in a wet winter, are a sickly shade of ash.
The car is getting warm, but I am fearful of opening my window. Will the weird light suck my color out as well? My stomach revolts. Breathe in slow and deep. I can feel the prickly heat sliding over my skin.
I want to stop, pull over and wait, but something compels me to keep driving. I know, without knowing how or why, that if I stop, I'll never get back to where I was. Do I leave the world I know, for something entirely different, or do I keep driving and return to the road I was on?