These past few days,
I've woken up to a world enclosed by fog.
I've looked out my window
and seen nothing but a sea of whiteness,
a sea of some memory that evokes
an image out of a horror movie- complete with bad actors
and no comprehensive plot for viewers at home to follow.
I've walked out of my door,
and immediately lost all sense
of where my body fits in with the rest of me,
unable to see my feet, my arms,
or even my hands right in front of my face,
but for the brightly striped fingerless gloves
that have recently become
my favorite accessory.
I've had visions,
while driving to work,
of the white mist
surrounding my car,
swallowing me,
making me invisible.
And there I sit at the stop sign,
lying in wait for the next unassuming car to come
crashing into me.
I see myself calmly biding my time,
knowing that the other driver
will never see it coming.
Calm, stoic, even, until the last second,
when adreniline and fear take over my body,
flashing stripes of color to the other driver,
alerting them of my presence,
as my gloved hands fly to my face
in shock and admiration
that my plan finally worked.
I think
I should start wearing brighter colors.
I've always felt the need to ruin my so carefully thought out plans.