The Leaving Fog

Fog always puts me in a bad mood. Especially when I’m driving. This is an all-time low for me, though, because I’m driving from a place I love to somewhere I hate.

I’m a desert rat, so the first time I saw fog I thought somebody drove off the road and kicked up dirt. But when the dust didn’t settle, it dawned on me what it was. I felt silly for a moment, then intrigued.

Now I’m just irritated. I had to leave. But I didn’t want to. Leaving is hardest when you have to; when you control the vehicle that is taking you away. You look in the mirror, watching where you were, watching as you get further and further from where you want to be. You look alongside the road for places where you can flip a u-turn; you imagine how it would feel to turn the wheel and head back to where you want to be. But eventually you get used to moving away. You focus on where you are moving to. You just want the leaving over with.

When will I reach that point? When will I get used to leaving, and focus on where I’m going?

I hate fog.

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