The Mist

A mist like none other came rambling in

on the warm, jagged breakers of the Gulf

giant rollers; great, undulating waves

toppling all over one another

 

This was no fog

no, those were felt many times

lingering on mountain passes

in the valleys and caves

No, this was something else altogether

alive, thick and enveloping

 

From the top floor of a white, stucco building

trimmed in baby blue

the view was like none other

When the feeling hit with a suddenness

it overwhelmed

suffocated, almost

 

Collapsing onto the bed, just as the telephone rang

the sound muffled

answering with, “I’m just so tired…”

 

“I bet you are,” the caller responds knowingly, with a smile.

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9 thoughts on “The Mist

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