She watched helplessly from the roadside as mist crept over the fields on a thousand hands, dragging itself towards the town that refused to believe her. They didn't seem to remember the eight other nearby towns and villages that the mist had already consumed, something she was unfortunate enough to witness on her route to work.
Perhaps she was able to remember because she'd been in a moving vehicle when the mist struck each time, barely able to complete her deliveries on more than a few occasions. Now as the county seemed to be shrinking, swallowed in the starving fog, work was becoming scarce.
It should have been the least of her worries as she saw the houses of her loved ones vanish into grey obscurity but a traitorous little part of her mind patted itself smugly on the back for packing her bags and parking her van in a layby outside of the fog's intended route.
She tried not to wonder how she knew where the fog would and would not be. Tried not to make any connections between her presence in each of the missing towns. Tried not to feel that warm nostalgic comfort that the sight of the fog brought to mind every time she saw those dear little hands clutch at the dirt like a child to their mother's apron.
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