Ghosts in the fog.

I was driving back to Boise today and the fog creamed across the roads like cream. I couldn't see further than about twenty feet in front of the car, so if there was any sort of roadblocks or herds of rhinoceri in the road I would have surely been engaged in what the pig latinos call a "ar-ca rash-ca." I was determined to not pull over as the other cars had done. A light billboard over the road told me to be warned of fog, and to be sure to turn on my fog lights. I decided to try a little experiment and ignore this warning and instead engage in Hyundai's bonus feature on their Elantra sedan aptly titled "Stealth Mode." Without headlights on, I had even less visibility than before but I had a clearer sense of my metaphysical presence within the fog, which allowed me to navigate using my mind's eye. My mind's eye navigated me right into a ditch, at which point I chose to disengage Stealth Mode and back my car out. At this point I began to realize that there hadn't been any other cars for quite some time, and an overwhelming sense of loneliness filled my heart. I looked around and the world had been reduced down to the several thousand square feet surrounding me in the fog. My world was tiny, and I was alone. My mind naturally began to wander, and I thought "What if this is what hell is like? You're just alone and cold on a tiny patch of dirt and you can never leave it." That's when I saw the great beast emerging from the fog. A dark shape was coming towards me on the other side of the road and it wasn't shaped anything like a car or truck. The only thing I could think of was that it resembled a bullet train, but it was moving mind-numbingly slow so I ruled that out. I actually took my foot off of the gas and had a moment of temporary panic trying to figure out what this apparition was. My mind started filling in the gaps and I became convinced that the thing coming down the road was not rolling but rather WALKING and the fog had actually drawn out some great mythical beast from its long slumber and it had wandered down this patch of highway. I slowed down to almost 20 miles per hour to try and gauge the speed of this massive phantom. Finally a headlight blinked into view. It was a vehicle, but shaped like nothing I have ever seen. Then a bright yellow tint and a space-aged cockpit in the front. As I stared in a mix of embrassment and awe, the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile rolled slowly past me on the highway, undoubtedly on a lonely quest across the Pacific Northwest to spread the good word about the superior flavor of Oscar Meyer weiners over other, lesser brands of weiner.