Trials and Tribulations, April 6th, 2026

While driving home late at night from a quite monotonous workday, something peculiar happened. As if due to a sudden onset of enlightenment, a sudden attaining of understanding, I began to see much more than I did before.

I observed myself, in my sad, little, twelve year old econobox, hurtling down the freeway at fifteen over the posted speed limit, a fragile metal box containing a fragile fleshy vessel containing a poor man’s immortal soul. Leaning back into the grey upholstered chair, my extruded appendages strewn across the stained upholstery, I peered out of the windshield, a view framed by the A-pillars to the sides and the glowing dash cluster below.

At this hour, the freeway was nearly empty, some lonely pairs of red brake lights stared back at me in the dark. The horizon was marked by the skyline of the unincorporated census-designated place ahead of me, which, after a couple of minutes, was soon to be behind me.

The rubber of my tires, as they rotated, driven by the meagre four cylinder engine, gripped the asphalt below and threw itself forward, and my black metal cage along with it. This interstate was quite a frightful thing, so terribly long and quite terribly wide, though a good deal longer than it is wide. I drive along nearly thirty miles of it every day to and from work, and from what I now understand, it goes on for quite a lot longer than that.

How much time and effort, just for me to drive to work, do nothing, then drive home, to do more nothing?

At this point I had passed the unincorporated census-designated place and was in a more remote area, and I saw ahead a lone house on the side of the freeway with a light on its porch. I thought for a moment about turning towards it, so that I would barrel through their front door and into their dining room, inviting myself and my econobox as impromptu guests, but I decided against such indiscretion, as it may hurt lest they reject my imposition, and it may be unpleasant to crash in such a manner.

Suddenly, the clouds above me parted, and the Hand of God burst through the glass of my sunroof and gripped the tongue from my mouth, pulling it out from between my teeth and lips, in front of my horrified face. A scalding hot spear descended and pierced my tongue, and the taste of blood and iron filled my mouth. The spear was then twisted and pulled out to the front, ripping my poor wormish tongue in two.

Immediately after, a voice echoed from above, “That ought to teach you to shut your damn mouth!”