It was cold and foggy early in the morning this time of year, but he was going to walk anyway. The two people that usually accompanied him were otherwise occupied. That didn't deter him, he could move faster walking alone.
The fog was thick, but not as thick as he had seen it before. He could make out faint stars above and the dark shadows of shrubs and trees on the other side of the river. The geese and ducks had already headed south and it was quiet on the water.
As he marched silently through the fog the ghosts of people he had known and people he knew appeared for a time and vanished, as they always seemed to.
His earliest memory of a dream was of walking behind his parents while they were walking side by side in the subway. He couldn't keep up as they got further and further away until vanishing in the darkness of the subway tunnel. They were really gone now and he missed them, especially his father.
People seem to appear to him like apparitions and vanish once they've gotten whatever it was they were after ... like ghosts ... ethereal and illusive. Imaginary?
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