Day 22: Smoke, Fog, and Haze — The Shark Agenda

Write about not being able to see ahead of you.

Imagine, if you will, it's 6:45 AM and you're stepping out into the early morning for a run before the sun comes up and the 80 degree sunshine spreads its fingers across the city.

You look up and the city skyline is completed shrouded by a thick fog. Humidity clogs your throat and curls your hair.

You make your way down towards the river, it's pretty dark. The only thing around is the faint glow of strategically placed street lamps.

Movement to your right, you quickly bolt in the opposite direction, fear clouding your reason. Oh, it's just an opossum that was spooked by my pounding feet. Nothing to worry about.

You keep it moving, senses heightened by the fact that you're a woman alone in the darkness.

You pass two men at an open door, they look at you but you don't look back. Never engage with anyone. You're in the zone.

Passing a construction zone, you have to wait for the light to tell you to go. But you can barely see the light because the fog is pressing around it.

The city seemed even darker than normal.

As you enter the park at the riverfront, you realize you can't see a damn thing. There are hardly any lamp posts in this area and both sides of the path are dimly lit.

You ignore your goosebumps and make a right. Not another soul in sight, except...

"HEY! YOU! HEY!" Someone was shouting at you.

No, no, no, no thank you. You pick up your pace and move out of their line of sight. Maybe you should head back to an area where you can see what's around you.

Anyone can disappear in the fog. And no one would know where she went.

“Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.”