As I walked north along the southeastern side of Nassaudense near Palmer Square, the viscous fog enveloped me like a comforting blanket. The air was thick with moisture, and the heavy veil of mist muffled the sound of my footsteps. The Kiosk, a small wooden kiosk surrounded by benches, was barely visible in the haze, but its familiar silhouette was visible in the dim light.
I could feel the dampness of the fog on my skin and the chill in the air. The usually bustling shopping mall was eerily quiet as if the mist had dampened all sound and movement. Usually so vibrant and full of life, the trees were now ghostly apparitions, their branches and leaves shrouded in the mist. A man stood up from the bench and walked away, head down, staring at his electronic brick.
As I continued walking, I felt like I'd entered a different world of mystery and enchantment. The fog had transformed the familiar into something strange and new, and I walked more slowly, savouring each moment in this ethereal realm.