Driving through the fog

Pulling an all nighter on the road, his eyes bloodshot and blurry, Jimmy encountered a thick bank of fog at the Arkansas line. His shoulders sagged under extreme fatigue and he rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. The fog seemed to ridicule him, one more hazard to endure after a night of dodging drunk drivers, potential road kill and unnerving sharp curves.

He had one more leg on his tri-state haul and needed to make it to Clarksville, TN by 3:00 that afternoon. There was no time for sleep or dense fog. Jimmy gritted his teeth and trudged on. He used to enjoy the freedom and independence of long-haul trucking, but middle age was creeping in, causing his body to protest from the sedentary nature of the job. Years ago, this gig helped extinguish the last remaining embers of his marriage. He hardly ever saw his boys anymore. He had become every country song cliché. Not an inspiring goal.

Weak morning light was trying to creep in, but was being beaten down by the oppressive gloom. Pine trees looked ominous. Every landmark was obscured in thick pea soup. Suddenly, Jimmy tensed and took his foot off the gas. On the shoulder was a dark figure, dancing and fluttering on the gravel. Jimmy strained his eyes for a better look, feeling cold sweat breaking out on his skin and his heartbeat quickening. But the figure disappeared as Jimmy was almost upon it. Slowly he realized that other creatures began to take shape in the mist, unidentifiable, some wide, some petite, some crouched near the ground, some floating just above the dirt.

Jimmy chuckled to himself. He was a seasoned driver, not the least bit green. So why was his mind toying with him? As he rumbled down the highway, he grew accustom to the fog images, He rather enjoyed their company. Soon, Jimmy was almost hypnotized by the cloudy blur enveloping him. As he was lulled by the whine of the tires on the pavement and by his sleep deprived brain, one fog companion inexplicably captured his attention. Its movements were agitated and jerky, not like the delicate wafting dances of the others. Jimmy snapped to, alert just in time to swerve back into his lane, narrowly missing a pale green Ford pick-up coming round the curve. The pick-up driver angrily blasted his horn. Feeling queasy from his near miss, Jimmy frantically searched in his rear view mirror for the creature that warned him of impending danger. But, like the others, it has been consumed by the shadows.