In the moonlight the car shimmered and seemed to vanish, as it was an invisible hearse, designed to take VIPs to the nearest gateway to Hell. A man stood by the side of the road with his skull in his hands screaming that he needed instructions and perhaps a ride, and I yelled back there was no way I would let him in on the secrets I had been gifted with, secrets only just then rising up to the surface of consciousness, and that if he did not walk off into the field and bury himself in a hole that I would see to it that God would seek him out and force upon him endless punishments, at which point he ran into the field, out toward the train tracks. I walked in the other direction, past the grain silo and into a small pumpkin patch, where I washed myself in a creek and stole a suit off a scarecrow. Freshly cleaned and attired, I returned to find the invisible hearse, which I discovered I could see if I squinted just right, climbed inside and set off on Rural Route 120 toward Devlin.

the exit is hidden within the exit