Tags
my day, short stories, short story, stephen, the mist, you bitch!"
I woke up, hungover as fuck. Showered under 4 sprays of fcuk. 3 minutes later I’m in in my car, on my way to school. Already 3 minutes behind schedule. I drive down the steep hill, and can’t see shit. Clouds, clouds, everywhere.
“CAN IT BE? IS THIS THE MIST?” I ask myself. Still half asleep, I slow down to grab my bow and arrow from the secret compartment in my glovebox. As I’m stringing my bow, I see blurry figures in my rearview mirror. I speed up. I’m out of my mind, scared. And there’s only 1 person to call. I call Stephen.
“Hello?” He answers.
“Stephen, you bitch! You didn’t tell me “The Mist was for real!” I say, exasperated.
He snickers like a bitch. “It’s not, just relax, that was all fiction, it will clear.”
Right then, it cleared. And my life went back to normal. I guess there’s something called fog, and it’s actually quite common, just not in this area. Thanks a lot Steve!