Microdosing - 70mg of a Mist
Prompt: Mist
Today on Microdosing our prompt MIST!
Write a story in 70 words!
Don’t forget to tag me if you follow along with the challenge.
It was a dark and stormy night. "Damn, that's too cliché."
The mists ate the whole village. "That's so stupid."
Henry's pen scratched out another line. The perfect opening is as elusive as a fog. He glanced at the mist swirling outside his window and felt it cloud his creativity.Â
"These fucking mists. "Henry tapped the pen on his lip in thought and took out a brand new page.Â
These fucking mists…
We’re so back.
Mists have been in my folder of prompts since I began writing Microdosing. The story itself kinda explains why it took so long to get it here.
LONDON CHOKED BY KILLER FOG!
December 9, 1952
Pea-souper turns deadly! Our fair city lies gripped in the foul clutches of a murderous miasma. Streets empty as Londoners gasp for breath. Undertakers overwhelmed, hospitals bursting!
"Never seen the likes," says Bobby on the beat. "It's the Devil's own breath!"
Parliament in uproar as death toll mounts. Is nature to blame, or man's folly? This ink-stained wretch wonders: Will London survive this froggy, foggy menace?​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
"Through every haze and mist I see you hurrying towards me..." A repentant Zelda wrote a passionate love letter to her husband, F. Scott Fitzgerald, after one of their epic quarrels. Perhaps the main reason for these fights (besides alcohol) was the joy of making up afterwards. Scott's tormented muse outlived him by eight years. When Zelda was dying, did she see him again, hurrying towards her through the mist?