Dancing days. Part one

Fog



"I can't see a fucking thing!"



He was driving standing up.

His face glued to the windscreen.



Cars appeared from nowhere,

their ghostly tail lights

only announcing themselves

seconds before we passed them.



We were on our way to dance class.



On the other side

cars seemed to emerge from tunnels,

briefly visible

before disappearing again

into the cloak of darkness.



Lorries rested by the side of the road:

skeletons of their former selves

-fog stripping them to their bare bones.



15 minutes into this he realised -

he'd forgotten to switch his headlights on.



We were invisible.


With millions of thanks toBernardpoet who put my write up in poem form.