Record Thirteen

Fog⁠—Thou⁠—A decidedly absurd adventure.

I awoke at dawn. The rose-colored firmament looked into my eyes. Everything was beautiful, round. “ O-90 is to come tonight. Surely I am healthy again.” I smiled and fell asleep. The Morning Bell! I got up; everything looked different. Through the glass of the ceiling, through the walls, nothing could be seen but fog⁠—fog everywhere, strange clouds, becoming heavier and nearer; the boundary between earth and sky disappeared. Everything seemed to be floating and thawing and falling.⁠ ⁠… Not a thing to hold to. No houses to be seen; they all were dissolved in the fog like crystals of salt in water. On the sidewalks and inside the houses dark figures like suspended particles in a strange milky solution, were hanging, below, above⁠—up to the tenth floor. Everything seemed to be covered with smoke, as though a fire were somewhere raging noiselessly.

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