“The fog is disappearing.”
She had been tracking it since childhood. She liked how it softened the edges of everything, how it held and kept secrets. She liked how it made her routine walks unfamiliar.
But it was appearing less and less, like a friend who rarely visited. It was the reason she had moved to the Bay, and she felt lonely without it.
“So? Why does that matter?”
She felt so disappointed in him. “Trust me. It matters.”
It rolled in the next morning like a dream. She ran into it barefoot and let it embrace her entirely.
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