One of the things I miss about home, about the ocean, is the fog. I love the fog. I even love the movie The Fog. The original. I haven't caught the remake yet. But there's something peaceful and quiet and muted and isolated about the world when the fog rolls in. It's as if my vision suddenly ratchets down until it matches my hearing. Existing on a whole new plane of quiet immediacy. Right there in a thirty-foot radius.
No one understands that. Not even Jake and he's from Newfoundland.
That's how I feel right now. And I don't like these pills because I can barely keep my eyes open.
