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The Fog

Copyright 2012 Douglas T. Vale

Cover image courtesy of Krechet /

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After the funeral Gavin sat on the docks a long time and stared pensively at the fog across the river. He wanted to find out what was beyond the gray swirling wall that had eaten his father.

"What now?" He asked the fog, dabbing his big toe in the water below the edge of the dock. He looked up and spotted a bird riding the wind effortlessly. Gavin thought a bird would have no trouble getting past the fog, and he wished devoutly that he were a bird. His mind, gummed with sadness and discontent, turned slowly, but gradually he had an idea: what if he could find a way to gain the qualities of the bird that birth had not gifted him with? Surely, he thought wildly, there had to be a way. There had to be a way, and he would find it.

His wife Elise joined him on the edge of the dock, dangling her legs toward the water and wrapping her arms around him. "Come home, where your family is, please," She whispered. "We're hurting too. We can hurt together. Please."

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