Sometimes you wake up in the morning and the fog has rolled in overnight; as dawn breaks and the sun tries to rise above the horizon it struggles to be seen at all. The thick, dense white gloop hangs miserably in the air, without strings or props; it just silently lingers. No questions asked. Things go slow; time falters and stutters in the curious dull circumstances. Sounds change and muffle. My voice sounds louder; traffic sounds more distant, nay, almost non existent. Can the sun burn through the gloom? Will we shield our eyes from the brightness once more? Will we cast shadows in our wake? Will the burning ball in the sky warm our bones once more? Our hearts?
Sophie