In the fog

He began speaking softly, there was no need for him to speak loudly, he had Lindsay's complete attention.

"When I was just a boy," he began, "I got lost during a sudden summer rain..........

I used to go hiking in the afternoon if all my chores were done and my mother had no book learning for me. Sometimes I would just stop and take a nap for a spell under a canopy of tree tops, or in one of the nearby meadows. One particular day though, I hiked further than I ever had, got tired and took a nap.

I woke during a tremendous thunder storm, which made the sky so dark I no longer recognized the way I came from. That is how the whole thing started. It was a scary storm, even though I was an older boy. I was probably eleven or twelve at the time. So I took off running in the direction I believed I had come from. The storm continued and it grew later. I ran until I couldn't run anymore. My legs were sore, my chest ached and my throat burned, running around in the cold and wet has that affect on a body though. I was even more lost than I had been before. The rain had slowed to a gently downpour now, but it had gotten considerably cool, and my lightweight clothes were, even less protection against the drop in temperature for being soaked. I began to cry. I was terribly hungry, and you better believe I knew my mother and pa had noticed me missing by now. I knew I'd be in trouble when I got home. If I ever found my way back there. I wandered through the woods some more, hoping if nothing else to find someplace dry and warm. Finally I became so tired that I fell asleep at the base of an old tree between two gnarled and protruding roots.

In the morning I woke, sore and stiff with a blazing fever. I knew I was sick and I desperately wanted to get home. I didn't care how much trouble I'd be in when I got there. I stood and dusted my self off and tried not to think about how hungry and thirsty I was. It occurred to me as I stood up that I'd literally slept on the edge of a path. I felt suddenly reassured, It was more worn than just a game trail, so I felt it would likely take me back to the village. I began to follow he trail through the early morning fog. It was eerily silent though, no birds cried out, and there were no sounds from the forest at all, not even the rustling of leaves, or the skittering of rabbits. The air was still too, as if time had stopped almost. Only the fog moved, swirling and spiraling around me on the path as I went. I could only see about ten feet in front of me as I followed the path. Which did trouble me, I didn't want to lose the path in the fog. I was pretty weak after a couple hours of following the path. Suddenly though the fog had all gone. I turned and looked behind me and it was still in the trees of the forest, though I was now on a well kept lawn in front of the biggest house I have ever seen.

It was like a dream, this great looming house surrounded only by silence. A shining vision in white, it was the most orderly place I have ever been. I approached he door. Thinking surely whoever lived here could help me get back to the village. I reached up to the great brass knocker on the door and knocked. After a few minutes still no one had come, so I knocked again. In the end I don't recall how many times I knocked and paused to wait for an answer, but when I realized no one was coming I began to cry again. this time though they were tears of anger and I began to pound on the door and shout. Finally I was mad enough I kicked the thing, and that was when it opened.