Spitballs

The Mist

The mist has been around for almost a month.

It started out as just a fog, a one-day think we all thought would go away. But it didn't.

After about a week it was starting to get annoying. The fog made it harder to see, especially at night. We all had to to reduce our speeds in order to avoid crashes.

After two seeks there was talk of air pollution, how all the cars were finally making a noticeable impact. Some wondered what it would do to the children. But few were truly worried.

The fog started to get thicker. You had to honk when you were turning so that people knew you were there.

The mist also caused other problems. When I woke up early one morning to clean what I expected to be frost off my windshield, I discovered a think coat of dark sand-like matter. It was brittle and refused to come off the car easily. It took almost half an hour to clean the whole windshield.

It continued to formulate on my car every day after that, but it only meant that I to wake up a little earlier to scrub it off.

Then the disappearances happened. At first it was a stranger, a man who lives almost an hour from me. But pretty soon, missing person reports were everywhere. In my neighborhood, on my street, one of my friends was even taken. The police started to crack down on their patrols.

But they didn't stop. If anything, the disappearances increased. Some would call their loved ones every day, waiting for them to stop answering. Cars were found in the middle of the street empty, as if their owners had spontaneously stopped existing.

And all the while, the fog got denser.

The mayor issued a state of emergency, ordering all citizens to stay in their homes unless it was absolutely necessary to leave.

That was easy for me, I spend most of my time at home anyway.

But it wasn't easy for others. There were more reports of missing people every day.

Most people stay in their homes, too scared to move, to breathe, to live, in the world they think, they know, will swallow them hole if they make a wrong move.