The Voice in the Fog part 2

Another strangely foggy day in my little town in North Carolina. For whatever reason, an idea possesses the people here that it is a wonderful idea to go out driving in such dense fog. Given that 90% of the population can't drive during bright days of sunshine, most of them drive with their headlights off even in the worst of weather.

This time I was at work when the strange occurrences started. I could hear the ceiling cracking at work from some outside force. I figured it was a breeze stirring and hoped it would take away the fog. My coworker was even curious about it.

I got the fortunate task of cleaning out the trash cans out front. It gave me a break from being inside so I didn't mind doing it. I was making my way around to the back of the building when I felt a push from behind. I had instant flashbacks from the first run in I had with fog some months back. I steeled my nerves and kept going.

I had the company of headlights to stave off the force. What I was really dreading the back where no one really goes. At least it was close to the drive-thru and if I needed help, someone would hear my screaming.

I dumped the trash and start walking back to the front of the store. A loud banging comes from the dumpster. I turn around to see the lids, which are about 10 feet off the ground and out of my reach, flapping up and down. I take off running. I hear them slam a final time as I turn the corner to run up the side of the building.

The tree that's behind me get slammed into by something and I hear the shaking of the leaves as it settles itself. I make it part way when I hear the patter of handprints on the brick beside me. I chance a glance to look beside me. Thousands of handprints are appearing and vanishing on the brick.

What should be a two minute trip to the dumpster in the back feels like eons. I look ahead of me to see a customer staring in shock at what is going on. I wave for him to go to the front of the store. I am on his heels as we turn the corner and nearly run into the doors. I exhale my breath and the customer shakes his head.

He doesn't speak of it but asks if I am OK. All I can do is nod my head. My co-worker, thankfully, was helping someone and didn't see what happened. When she approaches, she asks what's wrong. I give her a smile and pat my chest. The customer beats me to a response.

"Oh, we just startled each other."

I wonder what is going on with the fog. In all my years, I have never seen anything like it. Given the gentleman's reaction, neither had he.