Randall C Stephens

One Misty Morning

The echoes of our footsteps were swallowed by the dense fog of the early morning air. I snuggled my head into my oversized hoodie, away from the chill, as we trudged down the empty sidewalks of our neighborhood. I was still groggy, and perhaps a bit grumpy, from getting up so early. I did love this time of morning, but my friend’s chatter was ruining the muffled silence I was trying to enjoy.