Morning Fog, March 29th

The fog was so thick you could cut it with a knife. So that’s what I did. I spread it on toast, even though this made it difficult to see where to take the first bite. As I ate, I became more imprecise and more vague than usual, which is saying something. This piece of writing is a product of the fog I swallowed. I can’t see where it’s going – I could bump into just about anything. A white blossoming pear tree all by itself in the clear-cut woods.