Shrouds of soft yellow, draped from the lamp posts, illuminated the edges of the foggy morning. They offered just enough light to make navigation possible, but not enough to show the hidden dangers lurking just beyond their glow. The heavy marine layer swallowed most of the pre-dawn earth in a blanket of glittering darkness. I carried on despite the unknowns.
The lamps gave off no warmth to ward the morning chill. They did little ease the trembles in my flesh as the threat of unseen terrors raced through my nightmarish thoughts. They did more to showcase the failings of our technology than to stand as heralds of our greatest triumphs. Their creators and architects had long since gone to their graves, and yet society had done nothing to improve upon them. I carried on despite our failings.
The path before my feet was splotched by the consistent castings, a checkerboard of dark and light. My steps lingered under the glow of the lamps and hastened in the intervals. My footfalls turned to whispers in the fog when they would have normally rung in echoed clarity down the street and that dullness infected my mind as well. I knew there was nothing to fear, there was nothing waiting to nip and rend in the chill and blurred edges of my sight, but I was afraid. I carried on despite that rampant irrational emotion.
The soft yellows faded before the end of the street, completely lost in the clouds that had come to nestle the ground. My destination lay beyond where the world ceased to exist. Each step exposed a little more had remained despite my inability to see it but the possibility remained that I would reach a point where that no longer remained true. The next step I took could bring me to the brink of nothingness and my momentum could carry me over the edge. I carried on despite the knowledge that each step might bring my fall.
I sat down to write about the fog that swirled in dark mists of mystery around me as I walked to my truck this morning. The words swirled as well as they reached the page, mirroring the images from my memory, and the story from thought to ink took an unexpected turn. I had meant to merely capture the beauty of those soft lamps lighting my journey and instead I spoke to darker and more meaningful truths of our world. I carried on despite the turn because truths need to be spoken.