The Fog Sets In

by

It is October. School, and life, is clipping by at a fast rate. My mind is often filled with a light yet unsettling fog. I don’t know where it comes from, but it is there. Maybe by making it concrete in words, on this space, the fog will dissipate. Probably not.

I walk down a cobbled alleyway in a far-flung town in Upstate New York. The moon shines with a brilliant clarity, rebutting the fact that it is nighttime and the sun is sleeping. Clip-clop, clip-clop, go my timberlands.
And, suddenly, the moon is gone and an impenetrable blackness stops me in my tracks. I can’t see anything. I panic. I walk aimlessly in a direction I think will lead me to where I was going but hit a solid wall. I hear a voice, androgynous, softly chirping: “go no further, the world is dead beyond here.” Naturally, this creepy voice saying creepy words stirs me into an irreparable frenzy and I run as fast as my fat feet can carry me till I reach an open meadow on the immediate outskirts of the town.
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