Nebula by Ruudt Peters

It started with a story of Fog, a bounding bike ride to school one early morning rushing past, or rushing through. Frozen figures protruding from the grey mist, the viscosity of the air palpable. Both memory and sensation, an attempt to grasp at the fog, inside the fog. The elusive space held in our cupped hands as we dip them down into the misty air to grab what we see plainly. The vacuum, the absence, the space for things to be, but also not.
/Aaron Decker