the lost man chronicles
misty adventures .56
last night, at about eight, it became rather foggy.
when i disembarked from the bus my hands and face were immediately brushed with a cool mist and i was whisked back for a moment to the cherished days of walking to grade school in the crisp morning fog. this made me happy.
i became golly-gee gomer pyle giddy when i came across all of God's children playing uninhibitedly in the glare of a bold halogen lamp blaring from the local bank lawn. in 35 years i had never seen fog this way, and so i was taken aback by how intricate this blurry weave of water really was.
looking off into the surrounding pale grey, the air hung quite somber and still, but here in this tiny display of two square feet, was an amazing jettison of spray consisting of what must have been a few thousand molecules frolicking gleefully in and out, to and fro, playing tag with each other. i thought, "wow. whoa. wonderful."
it was hard to believe and conceive that this was happening everywhere all about this opaque evening.
the rest of the way i desperately tried to see the mystery unveiled again in the looming streetlights, but my peering was to no avail, for they were all too far away—or rather, it is more accurate to say, that my vision was too limited.
cognitive breakdown .55 57. orbicular echos