Misty Mornings on the Puget Sound

Time is frozen in the hills above the Puget Sound. Small particles of water are suspended in the air. A cloud has descended on the city and holds it in its clammy grip. Sounds are close and sharp, but far away sights blend into the wash. You are stalked by people unseen.

The world is smaller. An entire planet seems squeezed into the space of a city block. The end of the street feels like the end of the universe. It’s beautiful; it’s claustrophobic. You breathe fog into your lungs. Water vapor goes in cold and comes out as hot steam.

A horn blows on Commencement Bay, which feels so far away it might as well not even exist. You shuffle into the white abyss. You could be the last person on Earth, but you let yourself be swallowed by the hungry fog.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a writer in Tacoma, WA. A recent immigrant from Arizona, he’s still fascinated by ordinary things like fog and rain and water. You can follow him on Twitter at @jonnyeberle.

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Published by Jonny Eberle

Writer, photographer, blogger and filmmaker in the City of Destiny. You can find my blog at www.jweberle.com.

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