Phantom of the Fog

It had been a clear day
Coloured with the chirps of blackbirds
Heavy with the sweet, thick smell of Frangipanis

She’d been at peace

Then the fog came
Creeping all around her
Draining the colour from everything and then completely obscuring it all
The chirps were gone
Replaced with the hypnotic whispers of the dark fog
The thick sweetness of the air was gone
Replaced with a much thinner sweetness bearing an excitingly bitter tinge

Just when she thought she’d faint from the mesmeric embrace of her new world
She sees his face
Eerie eyes burning into hers
They weren’t menacing
They were emotionless and powerful
Strangely comforting
She raises her hand to touch his face
She draws her hand back when she does not feel the warm flesh she’d imagined she would
He was a phantom
She could see now
The way the edges of his face blended into the fog
He was the fog
This was his embrace

Her eyes darted open
When had she closed them?
The colour was back
The chirps now irritated her
The Frangipanis now stung her nose
Who was he?
She’d known him through his embrace and his eyes
She didn’t know his name
Perhaps he had no name

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