The Fog....

Late one night, upon one of my many journeys about the countryside, my horse wandered into a bank of fog, thick as thick could be....

We followed the path for an hour, as it wound thru the countryside, and then thru a village...

A village that I knew should not be there....

Through a clearing in the fog, a patch not as thick as the rest, I glimpsed horrors I have never before seen, of madness and monster, I speak not even now.

In terror, I turned my horse about, and forced him to a speed as if the Devil himself was upon our heels - for all I knew, he indeed was...

We sped upon the path, back through the fog, trying to find from whence we first came. But we cannot find the damned place.... Are we trapped now in another time? Another place? Where? Where? WHERE?!?

...and when the fog lifted, I looked about, and spied unfamiliar lands, of people - if that what they be - different from myself... and in dispair, before taking my firing piece from my belt, and place the muzzle to my head, and forever ending my terror as the ball enters, I take pen upon paper, and write this that I have seen and witnessed, and my actions I've done. And in my final words of horror, I plead to you....

DON'T GO INTO THE FOG....

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