picture it & write # 38; The Fog
The burning sun crept over the horizon. The heavy silence hushed my trembling whimpers. The tendrils of the unwavering fog caressed the bridge. My shivering hands grasped the rails and peered over, it was a kilometre drop at the very least. I pulled back and pushed away the stubborn tears that leaked from my eyes. I watched as my father trudged into the fog. If only I hadn’t been so rash… he wouldn’t of taken the fall for my actions. “Please come back,” I begged. It was the last time I ever saw him. The fog never returned its victims.
- Ermisenda Alvarez