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On Friday night my friend and I went to Kentucky and back in one night. But we didn't even leave Columbus until midnight. This happened following a coffee-fueled political and philosophical discussion at the Waffle House, we just started driving down the highway after that and decided that we didn't want to turn around. We stopped at Jolly Pirate Donuts, drank more coffee, smoked cigarettes inside, and I ate a yummy jelly donut. Then we just kept going.

I saw a place called "The Franklin" in Clay Township, an old, run-down and borded up Motel. The sign was all big and bean shaped, with burnt out lights around it; it was extremely fifties style. That building gave me the worst FEAR I've ever experienced in my life. I just had this feeling that bad things had happened there, and then everything I saw after that became instantly horrifying and spooky. We got lost in Portsmouth trying to find the detour for 23 and ended up on Highway 52 - the most haunted and terrifying of all highways at night. Something about it didn't seem right, I demanded that we turn around. Maybe it was the FEAR left over from The Franklin. I don't know, but I do know that I wish it had been daytime so I could have taken pictures of these things.

We realized we were in Kentucky when we started noticing highway signs reading "3116" and "2317". That was weird. We stopped at a Kroger in Ashland and got a soda and then headed back. The Dollar General had a giant shale cliff looming behind it. I took a picture of the blue fire coming out of a smokestack at a big steel mill. On my camera phone it looked like a blue comet hurdling down to finally end humanity.

The best things are unexpected things.