The Shape In The Fog

It’s the very early morning

the fog is lifting off the sea
the sand of the beach is wet
and the waves are singing
as they crash onto the shore

I run down the length of the beach
between the dunes and the salt water
and the fog envelops me like a blanket
sounds are muffled and hushed
as I settle into the rhythm of my run


I relax and make myself comfortable
as I run into the wild open country
where there’s only trees and bushes and sea
and my feet land softly on the sand
splashing through the shallows of the rising tide

in front of me a shape appears
its outline vague and hazy in the fog
it closes the distance and takes form and colour
and turns out to be a woman
walking steadily towards me

her feet are striding across the ground
her legs are long and strong and tanned
her thighs are shapely and muscled
she’s wearing a short blue denim skirt
underneath her brown belly button

her ribs rise up to her full breasts
engulfed and encased in a tight bikini
they’re round and firm and appear well tanned
held by the string tied around her neck
which sits on top of broad, strong shoulders

her mouth opens and reveals white teeth
that smile at me as we approach
bright eyes shine beneath thin eyebrows
that arc up towards her blond hair in a tail
and she nods at me and then blushes

I nod back and say good morning
as her blush deepens and spreads
then we pass each other and I run on
and we fade out and disappear again
each of us swallowed by the fog

the beach stretches out ahead of me
then opens up where the access tracks are
where people are moving around in the fog
it’s time to stop being comfortable again
so I stop and put my pants back on







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