The “Ides of March” Series … Prompt #5 – “What can be seen through the fog.”
The fog enfolds like a heavy blanket – one thick with chilling dampness. Streets you once knew well disappear into unfamiliar, mysterious byways holding fear and uncertainty. You navigate slowly, knowing that if you take one wrong step, you’ll be lost for good.
Fog – white, swirling, blinding mist. Keeper of secrets and swallower of souls. One minute, there’s nothing in front of you – the next, you’re colliding with reality. Its clammy hands surround you with doubt, and the fear of what’s ahead keeps you frozen to the floor. It seems the fog has won.
But then – dimly – through the fog you see what looks like hope. And it looks an awful lot like the pale, yellow flame of a guiding beacon. Shadowy outlines begin to take shape, their silhouettes made blurry by the cloud which engulfs you. It makes you want to move forward. So you tentatively take one step – and then another. And as you gain ground, the light cutting through the fog becomes stronger. It gives you courage to move toward its protection, and even though all the details are not clearly known, you are sure now that there is an end to the uncertainty and fear the mist provides.
And what you discover is that the fog has no substance. It has no real power to hold you back – it’s merely obscuring the end goal from your vision. You know the end goal is there – you’ve seen it before – but the icy breath of a shielding cloud is keeping it from you. You just need to take a deep breath, plunge forward, and trust the light at the end of the road. It will always guide you safely home.