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 ful...