Lost in the Fog

       It was cold but not windy. The kind of cold that takes a bit to sink into your bones: starting with a quick nip at your neck to make you draw your jacket in closer, walk a little faster. Mid-evening and already the fog had long since settled in, so thick that the streetlights were having trouble shining. They looked more like small holiday lights, popping their light through the nearly opaque air.

   On this evening Jonathan was hurrying home, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and mouth, hat almost pulled down to his eyes. His feet made swift almost smooth steps on the pavement, nothing but determination in his gait. And so, a few minutes later Jonathan found himself completely surprised that he was entirely lost due to the fog.  It was thick, yes, but he walked this route everyday: down the same blocks, round the same corners, without looking he knew when the pavement turned to cobblestone just from the soles of his feet. He could walk home blind! or...so he had thought.

     Looking around in every direction, Jonathan had no idea where he was. None. Not an iota. He started to breathe a little faster, no he shouldn't panic. There was a park bench to his right, perhaps if he sat for a bit he could get his bearings.

    The mist and fog whirled beside Jonathan to reveal an old woman knitting a gargantuan sock that seem to go on and on. "Hello, M'dear, suffering a loss of direction?"

  "Yes, I've gotten completely turned around.  I'd believe you if you said up that way is the future and behind us lies the past.  Or to our right is Chicago and to our left sits New York City.  It all seems the same all around and its only growing colder."

The old woman continued knitting, her hands flying about to a rhythmic pattern. "Mmm I see.  Humour an elderly woman for a moment, won't you?  Close your eyes.  Now picture yourself still seated on this bench, but mentally push away the fog.  As if you're a painter and with each brush stroke a swath of fog will disappear."

  "This all seems a bit strange and I've never really painted in my life" Jonathan interjected.

"Hush now!  If it seems strange that's because it is: now keep mentally painting the fog away. When you've done that, imagine this bench is on the side of the road-"

  "But aren't we on the side of the road already?"

"-Didn't I say to hush? Maybe we are on the side of the road and maybe we aren't, I told you to imagine.  Right now you're in the fog and you might be anywhere. Now imagine we are on the side of a road.  Picture that the road we are near is the road that leads to your house. Have you got all that in your head?"

   "I think so" Jonathan answered

"Good, then open your eyes" The old woman said, a smile in her voice.

Jonathan opened his eyes to find himself sitting on a park bench alone. The fog had lifted and the stars shone in the sky. Jonathan shook his head and started walking home once again.