driving through the desert at night is like driving across the pockmarked surface of a zombie's face
the road cuts in and out of huge canyons
side of the road is rough and dark
shadows thrown that make it look like scabs
ditches follow the road, looking like deep gashes
big puffy sagebrush like mutant hair follicles
tufts of infected flesh
canyons like distended wounds
deep grooves from sides of canyon where rain has washed down endless numbers of times, etching grooves like tears on a weathered face that's been crying ceaselessly for a thousand years
the trees look creepy, like people standing there frozen in the headlights
scared, or maybe not scared, gazing into the headlights, confused
big rocks look like predators
trees with their white branches and gnarled arms emanating from trunks look like ghosts in the bright light
ghosts of trees