Journal Entry: Road

My father once traveled coast to coast via car. He explained, while traversing the desert, he could see the endless earthen asphalt expansion we call a road stretching to China for all he new. The towering spires of tinted orange rocks seem to stand as if frozen alive. As the road and trip continue, suddenly, the thundercloud appears; so dark and menacing as though it came from the mouth of Hell itself, comes into view. Its size and density turn a bright and clear day to an unearthly, erie night. My father seeks shelter and with luck, finds an unused garage. A few sprinkles suddenly turn to an endless horde of water descending from the heavens. Hail hurles itself towards the earth like a pitch from Alex Rodriguez. God sends a barrage of  lightning and claps the thunder like a crash cymbal. The storm seems like an endless onslaught of the nastiest weather ever known to expose itself. With no hope left and no end to this malevolance in sight, the natural blue of the atmosphere returns with trailing puffy white cotton-ball clouds. With the way clear to traverse, my father resumes his trek across the vastness of the United States of America.