The Man Behind the Fog

Coach Mo Hance
Sep 8, 2018 · 6 min read

The deafening sound of the sirens that warned the citizens of London moments before the bombs from Nazi bombers wreaked havoc on the city filled Jonathan’s head. No, Jonathan isn’t in Britain during a great World War, at least, not in reality. In fact the sirens that he heard weren’t even those warning signals from towers notifying the citizens of a bombing raid. His frantic escape to safety was merely a flash of his imagination before the actual alarm woke him from a deep sleep. The alarms didn’t warn him of incoming enemy bombers, they warned him of another day of drudgery in what he called the blur of the everyday normal.

In the normal, everyday rhythm, Jonathan fought the normal “Battle of the Snooz.” Does he take the extra nine minutes of sleep, or does he rise and face the realities of everyday life? Today, he wins against the alluring temptation of nine extra minutes in slumber and reluctantly slides his feet out of the safety of his brand new down comforter. An unwelcome chill slithers up his spine as the pads of his unsuspecting feet feel the cold of hardwood hell below.

As the nerves drop off their signal to the brain, a hint of shock sits Jonathan erect on the cliffside of his Sealy Posturepedic. Straining to stand up under the weight of fifteen years of the same routine is only made possible by sheer willpower learned under the squat bar during his years in football. With the cracking of weathered joints, Jonathan makes his first leg of the sixteen hour journey ahead which is a mere twenty paces to his first resting point marked by a porcelain receptacle. This is where he will rest while the temperature of the falling water next to him reaches a desired ninety degrees.

Before he gets prepared for the main leg of this journey he stops at the looking glass to get acquainted with the person looking back. Jonathan raises his right hand to the mirror in order to wipe away the condensation left by the steaming shower in an attempt to reveal the identity of the figure behind the fog. This is just another part of the normal day to day routine that Jonathan goes through each morning. Only this time when Jonathan wipes away the fog from the mirror he catches a glimpse of someone he doesn’t recognize. Sure, the person looks familiar, but it’s not the same person that is there morning after morning.

Perplexed, Jonathan gazes into the familiar eyes of this stranger who once again disappears behind the blur of condensation reformed on the mirror. Quickly, Jonathan wipes away the fog again eager to see who exactly that was that he saw in the reflection. As the mirror becomes clear behind the sweep of his right hand, once again he sees yet another different but familiar face. Fully awake and alert now, Jonathan stands shocked staring at the reflection that is quickly being covered by another wave of fog.

Confused, Jonathan realizes that two wipes is normal, but a third is never warranted. Today however, he wipes away the fog on his third attempt as if it were his first. The third attempt reveal to him a third stranger. Looking through the resilient fog at the blurry figure beyond, he frantically searches through his files stored in his memory bank for the identity of the three people he had seen. You’ve been there before, that moment you run into a stranger at the grocery store and strain to answer the question, “Where do I know that person from?”

Jonathan wipes away the fog again to get another glimpse in order to see if it will jog his memory. Much to his dismay, the face has changed once more and the fog which seems to be unfazed by the fan quickly hides the figure again. Confusion is quickly replaced by frustration and Jonathan shakes his head in an attempt to “come back to his senses.” After a brief moment of convincing he turns to his left having decided to make his way to his closet to put on the clothes he always wears when taking this journey. Only this time, the pesky fog that had caused him so much trouble at the mirror has removed the doorway from his sight.

He was obviously in his bathroom, but he was encased by this impenetrable barrier that couldn’t be the steam from his shower. It was as if the only place he was permitted to stand was in front of that mirror thad had been causing him so much strife this morning. Considering this was the only place he could stand where he could see, he stays put in front of the mirror trying to wrap his mind around what is taking place.

Slowly turning his attention back to the mirror, he hesitantly wipes away the fog for a fifth time. Like every time before, the figure revealed behind the fog is a different but familiar face. Wipe after wipe, Jonathan looks at the ever changing face. Each time he starts to recognize features that never change. The hair for example, always stays the same length and color, and they eyes never change. The only difference in the eyes of the figure behind the fog is the presence of life which seems to grow increasingly with each wipe.

It’s hard to know how long Jonathan has been standing at the mirror, he can’t see the clock in his room, but with each wipe he begins to recognize the reflection staring back. He also notices that the fog is slower and slower to return allowing him more time to see the face staring back at him.

Finally, Jonathan wipes the mirror as he has been doing for what seemed like an eternity to him. Only this time instead of the fog beginning to fill the void where his hand had passed over the glass, the fog begins to melt away from that point out in all directions. As the fog begins to dissipate, a cool sensation fills his lungs with every inhalation. Each breath that Jonathan draws fills his lungs with a cool refreshing air. Naturally, he begins to breath it in deeper in order to enjoy every moment that it travels through his bronchioles.

At this point Jonathan’s eyes are closed and he is focused on the sensation of this cool, refreshing presence that expands from his lungs out in every direction opposite of the disappearing fog on the mirror. While the fog disappears this refreshing feeling expands throughout his body causing the normal scowl on Jonathan’s face to be replaced with smile of contentment. His posture transforms from the droop of a wilting man to the refreshing upright blossom of a man full of life.

For the first time in years, Jonathan doesn’t feel like he’s pushing the weight of his reality in the wheelbarrow filled with the drudgery of normalcy. In this moment he feels like he is 7,000 feet above the earth floating under the canopy of a parachute taking in the beauty of creation as seen by the birds. A tear escapes through the corner of his tightly shut eye and slides down the slope of his cheek bone and leaps from his jawline to his bare shoulder. He is overcome with emotion as he opens his eyes in anticipation of being reunited with person staring back at him on the other side of the looking glass. The person who had been missing for so long that Jonathan was not able to recognize him awaited his gaze in the mirror. Jonathan thought he was long gone and never to be heard from again. It wasn’t only Jonathan who missed this man, his wife has been searching for him for years.

This time, Jonathan reaches up and wipes away the tears to reveal the person behind the fog. He stares into the eyes of the person he thought he’d never see again. He was reunited once again with the real Jonathan.

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