X in the mist

It’s a kind of mist he lives in, X tells me, that’s the closest he can get to it. A mist that conceals dangers or keeps them at a distance, he’s not sure, he says. It keeps them on the other bank, but he doesn’t know where the other bank is, of course, on account of the mist, he says, or if there even is another bank. He might be on an island in the sea or just need to cross a trickling stream, he says. He likes to imagine water for some reason, he says, it comforts him and explains the mist. But it frightens him too, he says, since water hides as many terrors as mist. He hears sounds, he says, tries to judge the correct distances and acts as he thinks appropriate in the circumstances he imagines, and of course this is a metaphor, he says, he’s not actually standing in mist, so why go on.

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One response to “X in the mist

  1. Pingback: Lost time | Notes for Nothing

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