The air was orange tonight.
It was an ominous glow as I stepped out of the door and into the night sky. The glow that hints at a coming storm; a tornado that will disrupt everyday life. A glow that brings fear, unrest. As if the current political turmoil or other civil unrest might actually loom around the corner, waiting to tear us apart.
And the aroma rose and stank and lingered. It was bizarre and unique and terrifying in its own way, directing one’s attention even more to the strange and uncertain feeling that hovered around the neighborhood.
If one allowed themselves to get lost in the moment, then there is no telling where that road could take you. You could imagine that lurking nearby was some sort of zombie outbreak, or that the bombs might fall at any moment and looting would begin.
It was ominous, it was eerie, it was hanging thick in the atmosphere.
But at that moment, a light broke through. Specifically, it was the Little Caesar’s sign that I was standing under, which I then realized was the root of the strange orange glow.
And the woman in the car in front of me was smoking weed, so that’s why it smelled funny.
So I drove home and ate some pizza.