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| Fog devours the town. When you look out of the window, hours after sunrise, the street blurs into itself: specters in a row. In the absence of birdsong, there’s only the pulse of your eardrums and the clink clink chime of metal against your ceramic mug. And the silence. Beneath everything, the silence. You're starting to dread the newspaper. Every morning, you unfold it like an explosive, carefully, held at arm's length. You hope it's no one you know. You pray, regardless of piety, regardless of religious affiliation, that it's no one you know. It's usually someone you know. Sometimes, she’s a name and a headline, words in place of recognition, an anonymous fleeting sorrow. Occasionally, he’s a face seen in passing, a memory like a painting of a cigarette in the park. More often than not, they’re a chapter in your life; an ongoing narrative of laughter and conversations, of questions and doubt and messy human emotions. Family, friends and acquaintances you can connect to a time and a location and some younger version of yourself. Family, friends and acquaintances whose crumpled bodies splash across the front page: Another victim found dead. No witnesses. No leads. No hope. We’re doing the best we can, say the men with blue uniforms and tired eyes. Do not despair, they urge, despairing. We’ll catch the killer soon, they no longer promise, because soon is a deadline long since overdue. At every junction, life presents you with choices. Yours sprawl out in your mind’s eye like silent films. You sit at the breakfast table, read the newspaper, live in fear, and wait for salvation or death; a monotonous cycle: sitting, reading, fearing, waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting. You gather your loved ones, nail shut the windows and doors, and challenge time and your own human needs, weathering a self-inflicted siege. You take matters into your own hands, embark on an investigation, confront the horror, confront the facts, confront the killer. None of these options are favorable. But then, this is not a favorable world. You make your decision and step out into the nascent morning. The fog consumes you. |
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