The water rushes over your toes as you stand on a beach staring up at the red bridge that disappears into the distance. Well, not really. But with all this fog around it sure seems like it. There are hardly any people around here. Most are back in the bustling city behind you. One may often stand, entranced, just looking at this city like it was made up; completely unrealistic to any architect or mayor who passes by. The buildings shoot up into the sky like pencils in a mug. The ground is still uneven from the many years of throwing dirt on top of swamp and nothingness but the locals don’t mind. Everyone here is relaxed like a baby in a soft sleep. Just a couple days and you’ll feel like before this you lived in Alcatraz. Sitting on a street corner close to the pier, I wait for the trolley. The people around me bustle at a pace I only thought existed in New York City as they head to shops and restaurants. Oh, that reminds me. I must get some clam chowder. How about Bourdon’s? Of course, don’t forget the bread bowl while you’re at it. The Bay grasps the air and sucks water into it making it humid and unpleasant. Who knew that one city could change the thinking of a simple but independent minded person. I only thought this possible in the city lost in an afternoon fog.
The City Lost In Fog by Hailey Klein