There’s Something in The Fog

A few nights ago, I was driving with my friend Ian into the wilds of western New Jersey. My girlfriend’s parents live out there, in a town named Califon (fun fact: the town was supposed to be called California, but that was too long for the sign, so…) and her car had broken down while she was out there visiting. We were the rescue team. It was raining. The bulk of the ride, a 35-mile straight shot out Route 78, was about what you’d expect. It was late, so there wasn’t much on the road aside of the occasional long