Fogs have been think as soup but this one, was a stew.
Soon the morning light would burn the fog away. Soon I’d be able to see the field and its lonely tree once more. But for now, there was only white.
Too bad it’s morning, I think. All these food metaphors are making me hungry for dinner. Something warm. Something to help burn off this isolating fog.
I think about grabbing my hair dryer and having a go at helping the sun burn the thick mist away. Wouldn’t it be cool if you could do that? Well, this is my story so —
I grab my hair dryer and carve out a fog based igloo. Indeed, it was as thick as a stew as I was able to make a neat little shelf to put my coffee on as I did my work. As the sun became brighter above me I delighted in my having the thought to fashion myself a chair so I could enjoy a sit on a cloud before my day really began.