Fog


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The fog lay thick across the countryside creating an eerie scene that was straight out of an American horror movie. To make matters worse, Krystal was standing in a graveyard. She shivered in her fake fur lined Parker coat and checked the time on the church clock. The large hands were still on quarter to ten.

‘Has it stopped?’ she asked out loud then put her hands into her pockets to find her phone.

‘That clock ain’t been a workin’ for years, lassie,’ a voice answered out of nowhere.

Krystal jumped and spun around, but she could see no one.

The fog was wrapped around the large headstones masking them like death shrouds. The smaller headstones were buried in the long frost covered grass. An old bare tree rattled in the wind and when the sky did appear from behind the fog, it was still dark as if the sun was still asleep.

‘Hello?’ Krystal called out.

‘Hello,’ the same voice replied.

‘Who are you?’ she asked.

A figure started to form and an old man, dressed in brown clothes and holding a tool box appeared.

‘I’m Tom. The caretaker,’ the man replied.

‘Oh….’ Krystal trailed.

She stared hard at the old man. He seemed solid enough and his face was covered in wrinkles. His skin also had that brown tan that comes with a life working outside. He came forward and stood opposite her.

‘And what’s a nice lassie like thee doin’ here?’ Tom asked.

‘Waiting for someone,’ Krystal said with a shrug.

‘A boy, huh?’ the old caretaker questioned.

Krystal didn’t reply. She looked away, thinking maybe she had heard footsteps and voices.

‘Thee shouldn’t linger long here, lassie. These old ghosts never rest. Ah, old Tommy got works to do. Farewell,’ Tom added and walked away.

She watched him disappear into the mists then with a shake of her head mutter, ‘what a werdio.’

The sound of running footsteps caused her head to turn. From the fog came another form, but it was someone Krystal was much more happier to see.

‘James! Over here!’ she called and ran to meet her boyfriend.

‘Sorry, I’m late, dad had me printing out tomorrows hymens,’ he said as they hugged.

‘Did you see that creepy caretaker?’ Krystal asked.

‘Caretaker? What?’ James asked and glanced around.

‘I think he said his name was Tom. Did your dad just employ him?’

‘Kris, what are you talking about?’ James cut in.

‘It doesn’t matter…Let’s go.’

Krystal took his hand and they walked over to the church.

 

Thursday photo prompt – Fog– #writephoto

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5 thoughts on “Fog

  1. Pingback: Photo prompt round-up – Fog #writephoto | Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

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