She slipped out of the tiny bed & breakfast before the sun rose and wandered down to the loch. The fog was thick and once or twice, she mistook a tree for a phantom before she fully saw its form. The surface of the lake was like a smoky mirror and there were few sounds in the early morning: no cars yet, no one passing by. It was her and the loch, a word she repeated to herself because she loved the way it felt in her mouth. Sometime later, as the sun was beginning to rise, she heard something breaking the surface of the water, but she could not spin around fast enough to catch sight of what it might have been.
I’m currently lost somewhere in Scotland… See you next week, friends!
{photo by Dave Stokes, used under Creative Commons license}
