In the fog

On Chesterman Beach, Vancouver Island 2017. Photograph by Tanya Clarke

On Chesterman Beach, Vancouver Island 2017. Photograph by Tanya Clarke

Writing Prompt No. 91

I tried to get to her as her hand reached out through the fog.

The sun was bright high above but the dense blanket of damp air stopped me from seeing where she'd gone. In a moment she had disappeared our hands touching for just a brief time as the cloud moved in.

Fingers of moisture delicate and light grazed over my bare arms, tiny bumps formed around the finest hair. I shivered. Where was she? There was nothing in front of me. No form loomed. Just a bright haze that covered everything from my body out to the hidden horizon.

I began to walk, calling out her name reaching with my hands feeling my way as if I'd lost my sight. Water began to lap at my feet. I had reached the shoreline. I could follow the sea either way. Somewhere, there would be help.

The light was beginning to fade as darkness crept up behind me. Something hateful began to crawl up my neck. I scratched at it with my fingernails to make it disappear. Still, the water continued to lap at my feet. Getting deeper.

I heard her. Her voice calling my name but the direction was wrong. The voice was out at sea. The water was getting deeper and colder. My teeth began to chatter in my jaw, muscles rattling without control. I could hear her. She sounded far away but close enough I thought that I could reach her.

Feeling brave? Want to share your own version? ‘Let it go’ in the comments below.