COMPASSION 101
The fog came down in the night and coated everything with starry white lichen. It’s as if it got physical on us. Every winter-killed blade of grass, every pebble, every stripped and stiff bush is limned in frozen fog. The fog stuck around to greet the morning too, smothering the world. Your eyes play tricks on you as you drive through the fog. You expect the world ends over and over. It’s as if the world is creating itself as the car advances, the negatives of trees loom like transparencies. Get Out. I’m the Boss of My Ideas. They’re Not...