A Foggy Monday

What hides behind the fog?

Anton Kutselyk

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It’s 7 am and I just woke up. I look through the window. The fog has taken over today. I cook a simple breakfast made of pasta, carrots and tofu. I eat alone — my boyfriend is still under the fog of dreams. I’m under the fog of wakefulness already. It’s an early start to the working week.

It’s 9 am and I’m at a coffee shop at the bottom of Klovsky Descent. I live at the top of it so I had to walk down to reach my favorite working spot. I can hardly see myself or hear my thoughts in this weather. The heaviness that comes with such mist is impossible to fight. I have to surrender.

I order a half-filled cup of filtered coffee. I occupy a chair in a corner of the room. I open my laptop. I’m lost for the next four hours in the stream of Medium articles.

It’s 1 pm. I’m done with my job. It’s time to really, genuinely surrender to the fog. I can blend in with it now.

What a luxury.

To dissolve.

What’s on the other side of being?

I am there. I blended in with the fog. Now I can see and feel everything around me.

What do I see?

I see red Chinese lanterns slightly shaking from the wind and looking like ripe tomatoes.
I see three men in military uniforms standing outside and having a chat about, maybe, military things.
I see bright yellow buses stop by to let some people leave and others board.
I see not-so-bright cars pass by in a hurry, as they always do — once you’re in a car, you’re always late.
I see people strolling lethargically through this day or, perhaps, they’re energetic and I just transpose my lethargy on them.
I see people around me, they’re busy doing different things. Most of them sit with grey laptops at a large table with enormously-sized chairs. Some drink coffee and chat. One man is reading two books, interchangeably. I tried to read a book, too, but words from pages can’t cross the mental fog and reach the parts of the brain they have to reach to be understood.

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Anton Kutselyk

I live in Kyiv and write about everything I see around