Obscurity

ob·scu·ri·ty
Noun:
1.The state of being unknown, inconspicuous, or unimportant.
2.The quality of being difficult to understand.

I squint through the windshield but it's no use. The fog is just too thick. The christmas lights barely cut through it, giving the deserted streets an eerie glow. The only sign of life is the lights themselves, reflecting in the darkened store fronts. I don't bother the slow down even though I half expect someone to emerge from the swirling mist. The only noise comes from the gentle whistle as the air moves over the car. I pull up to a red light and it changes before I've even dropped any speed, like it was expecting me on this solemn night. 

I turn onto a two lane highway. It's a strange thing moving through mist. You are contained in your own bubble of existence, every side street hidden, the distance emerging only to be swallowed again by the heavy shroud as if it never existed. It would be all too easy to miss your goal by mere feet and be never the wiser, forever wondering the barren mist.

 Carelessly I let my foot fall and watch the needle rise steadily. I turn my lights brighter and watch in wonder. As if in retaliation the fog has solidified, the light failing to penetrate. Another set of lights appear before me. These ones are tail lights. Slowly the outline of a car cuts itself from the mist yet my brain refused to validate the certainty of it's existence. I quickly over took it, but I didn't look inside. No, I had enough ghosts haunting my conscience.

The End

0 comments about this story Feed