Peace and quiet

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foggy valley

Fog crept up from the bottom of the gorge, filling the chasm with a thick, muffling cloud.

“It’s kind of beautiful,” Rosslyn said.

Milo pursed his lips, holding in his retort.

“Ethereal really,” Rosslyn said ignoring Milo’s condescending smirk. “The quiet is serene, like being in a dream.”

Without turning his body, Milo cocked his head toward her, closing his eyes while he considered a reply.

“Fog is merely minuscule water droplets suspended near the earth’s surface,” he said, his eyes still closed, as if looking at her was a distasteful chore. “There is nothing otherworldly or mystical about it.”

The corner of Rosslyn’s mouth twitched as she tried to suppress a smile.

“I know, you’re expecting some prehistoric monster to emerge from the depths, a wide swath of death and destruction left in its wake.”

Rosslyn had to cover her mouth to not laugh out loud. Once her giggles were under control, she playfully punched Milo on the shoulder.

“You’re much too serious,” she said, grabbing his arm, rubbing it where she hit him. Leaning in, she put her head on his chest. “Come on, admit it. It is gorgeous. When you can see it.”

Milo peeled her fingers off his arm, shrugging her away. “There is no need insult me.”

“You’re just being petulant,” she said, hands on her hips, tapping one foot, the staccato clicks absorbed by the fog. “What? Didn’t think I knew a three syllable word, or how to use it appropriately? Whoop! That word had five.”

“I reckon I di’n’t,” he said, affecting a poor imitation of her southern drawl. He crossed his arms and turned his back to her.

“Now, who’s being insulting?” Rosslyn mimicked Milo’s sullen posture and turned away from him.

They stood silently, unmoving, while the fog spilled over the overlook railing, pooling around their feet.

“I just wanted for us to get away to someplace nice,” Rosslyn said, her voice cracking. “You’ve been under so much stress at work lately, I thought it would be nice to find a secluded spot where you could unwind and relax. How was I to know the park would get the heaviest fog it’s had in four decades and we wouldn’t be able to see more than 50 feet in front of us? At least it’s quiet, and peaceful.”

Rosslyn kept her back turned away from Milo, but tilted her head slightly, hoping for a reply.

Before she could say anymore, Rosslyn noticed that the fog had rolled in around them, damping all ambient sound, drowning them in an eerie silence.

“Milo?” Rosslyn spun hearing a sickening gurgling noise.

Expecting Milo to be standing behind her, ready to surprise her, Rosslyn only saw a long, slimy trail leading away toward the gorge railing. The fence’s wooden timbers were splintered and its posts pulled out of the ground. Trees and shrubs growing on the gorge slope were broken and flattened, the trail going deeper into the gorge, lost in the fog.

“Milo!”

Rosslyn’s screams sounded hollow and were soon swallowed whole by the fog that kept roiling up from the bottom of the gorge.

master-class-featured-image
Inspiration: Gorgeous gorge
This week’s Studio30 Plus: “Reckon” and/or “Guess”

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