The fog

     Once again, I apologize for the entry last night.  Occasionally these things happen so I'll just move on.  Anyway, it rained all day yesterday.  By the time we got on the road last night, the fog was so thick we could barely see more than a foot ahead of the car.  I love the eerie, murky-looking way that headlights reflect off the mist, limiting your visibility forcing you to move slowly and carefully.  It almost leaves you feeling claustrophobic, as if the world is closing in on you.  Even the air feels thicker, like trying to suck bisque through a straw.  Buildings that you pass every day suddenly look sinister when the fog rolls in. 
     Movies like "The Fog" and "The Mist" capitalize on nature's antithesis to the rainbow.  Yet even before "moving pictures", masterful writers used fog or mist to set a mood.  Edgar Allan Poe, best know for setting a dark, and oft times macabre, element to his work utilized fog to its fullest.  The funny thing is, when I started writing this entry, I was so busy connecting fog with the work of others that I completely forgot about my own.  For those of you who already read the preview to my first book, "Journal of the Undead: Littleville Uprising", you already know about the foggy night where it all begins.  The next time you're enveloped in fog, take a minute to slow down and let your imagination run wild....