Creative Corner: ‘A Strange Morning’

He wakes up like any other day: with a jolt from a dream. Today it was odd, but the memory slips from him the more he tries to grasp it.

After a few moments, he sits up in his warm bed, slowly pushing off the many layers of blankets. He stands up on unsteady legs, the kind that only come from waking up too quickly and walks to his bedroom door. The living room is empty, but this isn’t surprising; his family usually sleeps later than he does anyway. There is only a little light coming from the big windows that face the view, the beautiful view for which his parents chose this house. The view of the houses, the playground and the…

There is no lake. Only a dark, rolling fog. This happens sometimes, of course. The lake is often covered by fog, especially in the morning, but it is never this dark and usually dissipates by the time he gets up. Now, however, the fog is moving quickly, swallowing up the cars and trees. He knows that the weather can do this, but he’s never seen it in real life. Maybe it will go away when the sun comes out.

He goes to get himself breakfast as he hears his parents stirring. His mother walks into the room but doesn’t look out of the window. He looks out again, sees the fog drawing closer, now obscuring everything but the small fence in front of their house, and asks his mother if they should be worried about the fog. She looks at him, tilting her head slowly, almost like a marionette doll. She has only a dark, swirling vortex where her face should be. It resembles the mist still drawing closer. “Yes,” she says, as the fog envelopes the house in blackness.           

Katherine Ostroske

Featured Image Source: Pexels

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