I’ve become used to seeing a foggy scene like a smeared ink painting.
Rain and fog are a set seen especially at the foothills in this time of the year when it is moist and rainy.
Also, when a fog is around, it’s accompanied by silence.
Somehow, people around me also seem to lower their voice and become slightly silent.
Such time is perfect to be absorbed in thoughts.
Suddenly, I recalled “Interpreter of Maladies” written by Jhumpa Lahiri, a short novel I read before.
The five days when the power goes out only for one hour at night. It is a story about each couple confesses their secrets in unusual situation of only candlelight. (I would hope to avoid such a situation as much as possible)
Fog softly hides what you usually see in your eyes.
I think it’s fine to have something a bit secret…while I was thinking about those silly things, the fog cleared, rain stopped and it was getting brighter around.