Grief Gears Turning, Fourth Images

(A) A very small, solitary wolf crying alone in a very big wilderness beneath a very white, large, cold moon. I try to worship and find the words stuck in my throat. I start to pray about situations outside of my control, things that I used to just talk to God about habitually. I get ½ way through and then stop when I remember that we’re not talking because I don’t have confidence You’ll do anything. It’s lonely not talking anymore. (B) Mae’s Brink of Disaster song sings me a forewarning: “I'm on the brink of disaster Staring down the consequences To brake hard would be better Tonight I'll do what it takes to fail Going there only faster Jump the gun and throw it into gear But the fact of the matter’s: I'm out of control, asleep at the wheel Asleep at the wheel I'm out of control, asleep at the wheel.” I ignore the caution, bite my thumb at God, and continue crying while driving and fish-tail frequently.