Walking Haze

Many of her friends were scared of it.

It'd creep along the ground, following them as they briskly walked down the soggy road. Pace quickening to get home.

They didn't want it to catch up to them. They could feel it, catching up to them, on the back of their necks, grasping their ankles.

When they had a choice, many of them avoided this section of the woods.

She loved it. Walking down the path, the haze made her feel welcome, like someone was traveling with her.

She'd drop her hand low enough and she could feel it, coiled between her fingers - letting her know she wasn't alone.