Fiction: It Started On A Foggy Winter Afternoon

It Started On A Foggy Winter Afternoon

Author's Note: The best feeling in the world is when inspiration strikes right out of the blue and lingers long enough for you to get home to indulge in it. I'm not sure if this is going anywhere, but I like it and I want to share it. Ideas, suggestions, criticism...all is welcome. 


She stared out over the lake, or at least pretended to. The world around her was shrouded in a heavy, unyielding cloak of fog. It was so dense she could barely see beyond the few leaves stubbornly refusing to give into winter’s unforgiving chill. She could smell it though, the familiar scent of the murky waters wafted through the air, mixing with the freshness of the drizzling rain that had been falling all day. A gust of wind made her shudder and she pulled her hood further down into her face. It was cold but she wasn’t budging. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to somewhat warm her frozen fingers. Her thin, woollen gloves weren’t doing much of a job at keeping them warm. Her thoughts drifted, clinging to nothing in particular. She shuffled her feet and let out a sigh, quietly asking herself for the umpteenth time how she’d managed to get herself into such a royal mess. “So...” His low, deep voice, albeit familiar, made her jump involuntarily and it resonated in her mind over and over. She sighed again. He’d been patiently standing a step behind her, not too close but definitely far enough. She couldn’t see him but she didn’t need to. She didn’t want to either. Not right now. Besides, his face was etched in her memory and the scent of his aftershave was one of a kind. She felt she could pick it out of a crowd with ease. “So what?” She replied, drawing out the obvious. He didn’t respond, silence settled and she continued to stare out over the lake she couldn’t see. A few minutes past, she ignored him as he cleared his throat, then abruptly turned around and faced him. “Give it to me,” she said with conviction and he handed over a small, black pouch. It was somewhat heavy and she could feel its contents moving about. She squeezed her hand around the it, holding on to the precious cargo. For a moment she contemplated tossing the pouch out into the invisible muddy waters but since that wouldn’t solve her problems, only add to them tenfold, she dismissed the idea almost instantly. Instead she slipped the pouch into the pocket of her thick winter coat. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.” His voice was lower than before, yet not submissive, and she nodded in acknowledgement, then walked away without a backward glance, heading into the impenetrable fog. She was out of sight within seconds yet she felt as if she was being watched. She shuddered and walked faster, suddenly eager to get out of the cold wet and into the warm safety of her small apartment. Somehow her rendezvous had taken longer than anticipated and dusk was settling in. It was getting darker by the minute and she didn’t feel like lingering out in the open for longer than necessary. Her gloved fingers tightly clasped around the pouch in her pocket, and she marched on, heading towards the main street and the nearest bus station.