Driving down the freeway for a good half an hour, can give you a lot to think about. Mostly, all the little things in life seem to bloom subliminally in your mind. They don’t have to be relevant thinkings, or thoughts with real potential. Sometimes they mean nothing more than filling that static in your conscience.
In the dark, the freeway becomes a lonely image, and your mind is easily rocketed into thinking and feeling about everything you have recently encountered. Mostly, this is because you encounter nothing interesting at all along the freeway.
Tonight, as I steered my way through the heavy, almost-winter rain, I focused hard on keeping my concentration only on my driving. And so I did.
Very few cars passed me by, and in return, I passed very few of them. Instead, I found myself slowly overtaking trucks, one by one, as if in a fleet. These trucks, however, were not your average Linfox or Budget Removal, but monstrous, mechanical beasts, that were hoarding hundreds of cattle and poultry.
No need to question their destination – the abattoir around the bend. I’m sure they loved their final shower, as the rain filtered through gaps of their cages, like sharp shards of ice.
I could see the fog from the cows noses, whispering into the night’s fog like a ghost. I couldn’t see them.
I could see the feathers of hens, poking out of every which space, colliding with fierce raindrops. The truck driver sipped at a coffee.
Maybe I am a sucker for animals, or just have a soft heart, but as I sit here writing this, I know these animals will be in my dreams tonight.
A dog barks next door.