Fog copyright-erin-leary-2


Car stalled on a foggy road.

Lights in the distance.

Walked in to that old tavern.

Cigarette smoke, sticky floor.

Men leering.

Almost felt naked.

Used the phone and left.

Getting dark.

Heard voices, drunken laughter.

They were on me so fast.

Thrown on the ground  next to a fence.

Two of them.

Foul breath, sweaty, grunting.

Horse approaching.

Woman rider in shimmering white.

Color of her skin changing.

Black, white, brown, yellow.

They stumbled away.

She turned her horse.

Looked back at me.

With tears.

Chased them down.

In to the fog.


Walked back to my car.


Thanks to Rochelle for the prompt for this weeks Friday Fictioneers Challenge.




31 thoughts on “Fog?

  1. Dear JustDeb, Good story and it is so unfair that women can’t go anywhere without drunkards leering at them and pouncing. This was a great story with a champion saving the night! I don’t think it is too dark of a story – just about what you would expect in a tavern on a lonely dark night. Well written and she was saved! Good job! Nan 🙂

  2. Deb, Good story and I don’t think it’s too dark. She was saved in the end. It sounds to me as though it was the spirit of a woman who had suffered the same abuse, as she was weeping, and was out to protect others on that road. Whatever or whoever it was, it was a happy ending. Well done. 🙂 —Susan

    • Thanks, Susan! The dark comment was left by my sister, who thinks I am a bit on the dark side. We are numbers one and two in the family and tend to rock and roll to different drummers. She loves me though.
      You did catch what I wanted to tell in the story.

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