A thin mist is rolling in the parking lot, scudding along the ground. This has been going on for hours. When i went out to my car earlier i discovered this mist curling around my ankles, sliding past me to grace the underbellies of the vehicles, and it made me jump and dance.
The gossamer gauze moves slowly over the ground.
Rolling, running, like a silent steady sigh.
The breath of some winter wyrm lying low, belly pressed against the pavement.
Ominous monarchial mist, mysterious exhalation.