Breakdown Country

Car's dead and we're left alone in this wilderness. Black undulating hills, no shelter, and I can't tell if this is dawn or dusk. We're on some strange compass point though, some fifth direction, and this could be both morning and night, and if I stay here, this twilight lasts forever.
Keep walking? Easy to say, but there are plenty of people who don't make it out. Bones littered in the grey air, lost in the obscure moors under those dreaming, troubled skies. Look at the engine, and can't make out a thing, but I've got to leave. It's started to emit poison.