The Fog

a very short horror story about fog and forgetting

When the fog came to our town, we heeded the warnings and gathered every day to count our numbers.

How proud we were after a week with no one taken.

How proud after a month with all of us accounted for.

It was only when the fog cleared that we looked out at our proud town and saw too many empty homes.

It was only then that we began to realize the fog had not spared us. We had simply forgotten the ones it took.

Short story written by Peter Chiykowski

Story prompt taken from a photo by Markus Spiske