That Misty Morning…

The mist covered me like an icy blanket as I walked out into the road. I went and sat on a chair left after the locality meeting yesterday.


A moment later, the snow began to fall. A breeze blew, making me shiver. I hastened to get back inside my home, but a shimmering silhouette in the distance stopped my advance. I saw her face, and it seemed familiar. A face from my past…

Changing my direction, I moved toward her instead. I reached her side. She smiled back at me. I mouthed, “Is it really you?” but she only smiled back. I embraced her. Still there was only silence.

I heard the horn of a car, and turned around. My colleagues were waiting for me. I turned back, and she was gone. The mist was back, no snow anywhere.

My colleague’s voice split the silence, “Stop dreaming and get inside. We’re already late.”

Category: Fiction

Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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