The Fog

Fog. The only thing she could see was an endless vortex of swirling pink fog. Looking around, all was the same. Still she turned, for she was looking for something, or possibly someone. All she knew was the impending danger she felt, not for herself, though she couldn’t begin to fathom who. She turned around again, a full 360, until she saw a figure off in the distance.

There he was, no more than ten yards away but she couldn’t reach him. She started running; she had to reach him in time. She felt like she was on a treadmill, forever running, never getting anywhere. He was right there, why couldn’t she reach him? All she could see was a silhouette, but he had long hair and was about 5’9, maybe taller, she was too far away to tell. Oh, why couldn’t she reach him? To the right she saw another silhouette slowly walking towards the first, with what looked like a rope in hand. She ran faster, feet slapping the ground to the beat of her heart, her breath shallow, her lungs burning.

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