Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Story-A-Day #411: White Mist


It seemed like a short cut.  On most days it would have been, a quick cut through the parking lot.  It was clear now though, that on a night like today, there were no short cuts.  Just longer diversions through the same familiar territory.

With each new step forward, I felt a little more trapped by the last step I had taken.  The world had become encompassed in a white mist; a particular kind of winter storm that results in pure white out conditions.  I didn't see this one coming, and now I had a long hike ahead of me through the white mists of this sudden, aggressive winter blizzard.

I popped my collar, pulled down my toque, and cursed the fact that I was a smoker.  My right hand was frozen solid into an icy claw.

It burned with the cold...

I stumbled forward through the cold and squinted my eyes into the cold blast of winter.  I had places to be, and nothing would stop me from getting there.  I pictured her warm smile greeting me upon my arrival, and to be honest, it was almost enough to get me through on that fact alone.

I stumbled through the tire-rutted, snow-filled parking lot, and onwards.  At the rate I was traveling, I would be there within the hour.

The wing whipped around me, sucking the heat from within my core by the few exposed bits of flesh that the conditions were able to carress.

I could hear a howling behind me; most likely the wind picking up again.  This howling kept growing closer though, until eventually it was upon me.  I didn't even realize it wasn't the wind until I was suddenly hammered face-down into the parking lot from behind.

I floundered for a moment, then realized it was hopeless.  I had been bested in the white mist.

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