In the small hours of the night, I’ve composed a quarantine haiku that pretty much sums it up as my mind slowly turns to quarantine mush.  Ta-da!  Another day had passed and someday, hopefully soon, I will once again connect with the wonderful people around me.  Today was not yet that day.

Distracting myself

No more than existing alone

You son of a bitch

I hate getting cut off when I’m driving.  Everyone does. I even get angry when I see a driver cut in front of a truck in the space the trucker has left in front of him to brake safely.

But I once read that if you imagine a good reason for why the other driver did what they did, you’ll feel better.  Maybe they are rushing to the hospital, or to be at the bedside of a dying loved one before they pass.  Maybe the person who cut me off is not a total bastard, but is trying to follow the rules of a serial killer in a Saw movie and had no choice.  Well, it’s true, it does make me feel a little better to give them some selfless excuse.

But what about those drivers in the fast lane that drive at the same speed as the slow lane traffic, people you can never pass?  What’s their excuse?  What can I tell myself to bring down my road rage?

I have the answer and this is my gift to you.

The slow driver in the left lane is driving straight to the lowest circle of hell.  These are their last moments on Earth before they are eternally damned and they want this time to stretch out as long as possible.  Would you deny them their final moments in the sun before they are damned for eternity?  By going slowly in the fast lane, they have figured out how to extend time interminably.  I feel pity for these poor souls.  Even if they weren’t damned before they drove slowly in the fast lane, they sure as f*ck are now.

“Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.” (Dante, The Inferno)

WARNING:  Those gentle, fainthearted souls who live in blissful ignorance should not read on, lest they lose their precious purity and discover themselves dragged down into despair, never to regain their beautiful innocence.

It has been almost a decade since I was visited in my dreams by the creatures of deepest Hell.  Only now, with the passage of time, have I mustered the courage to bring their evil to light.  When I close my eyes, I see them as I did that first day they revealed themselves in my nightmares.  In future writings, I will tell the story of each demonic being I came across in the darkest nights.  For now, I will list them here, though I recommend against speaking any of their names out loud, lest you invite their evil into your home or heart.

I remember them marching past me, and it all started with Grouchy Potatoes, the herald of Evil.

My visitors on the first night were as follows:

Grouchy Potatoes

Shifty Carrots

Silver-tongued Chick Pea Hummus

Flippant Parsley

Brutal Sprouts

Greedy, Snarky Tomatoes

Angry Corn (loose, not on the cob, I recall the Corn as if this all occurred yesterday)

Selfish Peas

Murderous Leeks

Arrogant Mixed Nuts

A Single, Slovenly Pear

Bloodthirsty Clementine Oranges

Strangely, there were also a handful of dishes, including some Boorish Cole Slaw and Malevolent Pizza.

My terror knew no bounds and I lay frozen in my bed.  There was no hope, no respite, no future, only death and destruction.  In that moment, I feared for my immortal soul.  My life was worth nothing in the face of such monstrosities.  The only saving grace was that they utterly ignored me as I cast my gaze upon them.

Little did I know the second night would bring the leadership, the C Suite, the royalty of Hell’s demons to my sight.  I only list them here as I hope their very existence will lead you, dear reader, away from dark paths and into the light.

The first whose aura made me quiver in fear was Saul, The Apple of Doom.  While his origins are lost in the mists of time, many believe he came to exist through the unnatural combination of a Red Delicious and a Granny Smith.  I stifled a scream and briefly lost all awareness when his savage visage came into sight.

When I came to, when I saw what followed, only then did I know there was no escape.  Directly behind him were the Four Asparagus of the Minor Apocolypse:

• The White Asparagus of Hopelessness
• The Green Asparagus of Despair
• The Purple Asparagus of Unwelcome Advice
• The Canned Asparagus of Crushed Dreams

After came a procession I can barely bring myself to recall.

The Okra of Cruelty

The Chick Pea of Temptation (aka The Seductress)

The Celery Stalk of Mankind’s Downfall

The Twin Chives of Decay, Robert and Allen

The Summer Salad of Darkness

The Kumquat of Weak Willed Hedonism

The Dried Fig of War

and finally, at the end of the procession was Alexander, the Red Potato of Harshest Rebuke.

As they travelled before my eyes, surrounded by bushels of haughty rice pilaf, madness overtook me.

I fear my dreams are prophetic.  If so, our world’s demise is assured.