The air had gotten noticeably thicker. So thick that his words were not being able to make it through. He couldn't even see through it. It felt like being stuck in an awful dream where situations seem real but details are bizarre. His mind was spewing thoughts in a frenzy but his diction wasn't being able to keep pace. Thoughts lined up at the base of his tongue, waiting to be articulated. They kept piling up into a lump in his throat, choking him. Soon, they fused into one glob of gibberish that dribbled out of his mouth in a continuous stream of goo. All of them fluxed together. The truth, the sadness, the tragedy, the laughs, the tears, the memories, the dreams, the imagination...all of it commingled shabbily into one slimy ball. He wanted to scream them all out at the same time. Some thoughts that couldn't make it out even through the goo, made their way out of his eyes.

The heavy air and the clouds inside his eyes made it more difficult for him to see. He felt each of his senses waning more and more. Dying away. Had he been able to force himself on the situation and get it all together in that moment, it would have been a different world from there. But this was perfect too...perfect in the context of this world he was living in, where nothing was right. Everything about the moment was going so wrong that it couldn't have belonged to a different world.

"Well, I don't know" he simply said. And blinked furiously so he could clear the water from his eyes and watch out for that ditch in the tarmac.