Meeting in the Mist

The mist enveloped the whole town. Nowhere was safe from the water in the air, no one stood a chance of staying dry. The skeletal tree stood proud as the onslaught of autumnal weather raged around its spike like branches.

He didn't seem bothered by the weather, it's nothing new, his mind kept telling him as he walked past the tree for the fourth time during his circuit of the park. He wanted to keep moving, psychological reaction; if he kept moving then he wouldn't get as damp as if he stood under the tree waiting. Why did he pick this tree, why today, where did this mist come from?

The branches offered no shelter, yet they were distinctive, easily recognisable from the other trees that littered the park. The tree was special, it meant something, there was a history.
He'd climbed it as a kid, got his kite caught as a youth, experienced his first kiss as teenager and brought every girlfriend he'd had up here to see the view!

Now he was meeting someone there yet again, only this time there was no view, no exhilarating feeling and only a sealed blank envelope. He still didn't know why he was doing this. Yet he knew it was the right thing to do. He knew that the man needed to know, had a right to know.

He turned his head round quickly as he heard the crunching of the loose stones very close behind him. The man smiled, he didn't trust it.