The Fog (Wasn't That a Horror Movie?)

I woke up this morning to a wall of fog outside my window. No practice? That would be nice. My first class isn't until 2:30 today. That would give me plenty of time to get another eight hours of sleep. My ride comes, and we drive in foggy silence to the boathouse. Not having practice wouldn't affect us that much; it's a taper week anyways.

We get to the bridge that crosses the river to the boathouse. Miraculously, there's a circle of fogless air surrounding the boathouse; I swear to God, it actually radiates from the bay doors.

Damnit. That's worse than any horror movie.