This morning, the fog was so thick that it felt like walking through a dream. The streetlights looked like they were floating in midair. It made me think of those Tonalism paintings we saw last week. Everything was a little blurred, and the world felt quieter. As if the fog had wrapped everything in its arms and told it to hush. Even the sound of my footsteps seemed muted, like they were happening somewhere far away. I passed a row of trees, their branches barely visible, like shadowy figures keeping watch over the street. For a moment, I started imagining they were alive, leaning in to whisper secrets to each other.
Then there was a bird, taking off from one of the lampposts, its wings cutting through the mist. Even though we had a stare-down before that, it still somehow startled me when it took off.
I spent some time under this lamppost, writing this, because this felt like the kind of time we would be out and about, when the world felt otherworldly.
A pity we didn't arrange to meet earlier than we did.
By the time I reached the corner shop, the fog had started to lift, and the outlines of the buildings came back into view. It felt like the world was waking up. Which they are. It is 6:40 hahaha. I stayed outside for a bit longer, watching as the colors sharpened and the sky brightened.
I wonder if the fog looked the same from your windows. Maybe it’ll still linger when we meet later.
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