Every once in a while — this being Texas, after all — I run in the fog. The clouds visit earth and make the location their habitation. Fog tendrils drift and swirl, filling every nook, cranny, and corner of the clouds’ new quarters. Sometimes, the fog comes with a small force. It seems ghostlike and wispy, utterly transparent. I look out and ahead for a few miles. Other times, the fog brings its entire battalion. The surrounding world turns opaque, and I see only five to ten feet in front of me.
despair
Do One Thing
Do one thing today, even if it’s something small like washing the dishes or sweeping the floor. – Write Right