Hello God, This is Not the Hour- by: unknown forgotten

It was a long time before I disengaged 4th gear and began to coast freely. The rippling thunder of the cracks in the road beneath my tires resonated within my bones. I could see nothing, absolutely nothing but the fog ahead and my dash lights radiating dimly. The heater was broken, it was cold inside the automobile. My breathe quivered off my trembling lips. The radio had been playing static white noise for hours on end. There wasn't a moment I thought about all this at the time though, my mind was consumed, obesessed on something different completely. As if my brain was frozen in place, constantly repeating to myself "There was nothing left but skeletons and the preacher with bloody hands." I put no thought into deciphering what I had seen.