jml297

It was time to put the book down and get up and do something. With a yawn, Sammy glanced at the clock. Somehow the day had got away from her, and even though she would have preferred to be curled up in her chair, lost in a thrilling mystery, she should probably walk Henry instead.

Minutes passed as she rounded up a coat and scarf, as it looked like a mist was rolling up from the valley, and urged Henry out from his warm dog bed and into the outside world. ‘It will do us good to stretch our legs,’ she told him. Henry looked balefully back at her, and started to back himself into the house, but Sammy gave a tug of the lead and they headed off.

As they walked down one of the narrow lanes that were dotted between the streets of the town, Sammy was thinking about the book that had held her attention for much of the day. It was a contemporary story, set in a place that was sometimes cocooned in mist. She’d stopped reading just as the protagonist was exploring a remote area that was suddenly cloaked in fog. As Henry snuffled about, Sammy watched the nearby mist creep in closer, limiting her vision. But they’d walked this lane so many times, she was sure that she’d be able to find their way back.

There seemed to be no-one else about, and when the streetlights clicked on, their light was absorbed into the mist now swirling about them. Hearing a car nearby, Sammy tugged Henry towards the left, realising that she could no longer see the footpath. The car was closer now, and it sounded like one of those 4×4 vehicles with a big engine. Sammy urged Henry to move faster, struggling to get her bearings as the mist was thicker now, and the car seemed to be right behind them. If she couldn’t see her hands, or Henry, how could a car see them?

The fear that the character had felt in the book she had left behind in her cosy, warm house didn’t seem so irrational now. Sammy could feel her anxiety rise as the vehicle, which seemed to be almost upon them now, revved its engine and the beams from its headlights were swallowed up in the thickening air.

Sammy bit back a scream. She reached for Henry, pulled his scrabbling form close to her body, and lurched to the left. Sammy tripped, and they tumbled, a mass of legs and leash as they landed on the narrow strip of wet grass beside a fence. Instinctively, Sammy curled around Henry, cringing at the sound of tyres on gravel close to her head, feeling the heat of the engine as the car passed them by. Had the driver even seen them?

Somehow they made their way home. Sammy was soaked and shaking. She’d never feel quite the same about mist again, in fiction or in real life.

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. A Scene I’ve Seen Before: write a story where scenes from a book your character is reading start unfolding in their life.

Photo: trees in the mist