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Fog

I have gone out in air so thin and clear that I felt alone. There was nothing near enough to touch. And I have walked with sun that gave me room. Conversely, there was one wind that, like a giant, shoved; and snows that nudged me over and stepped on my toes! But this fog is like a populace! I go out in it and seem to face a million faces, all turned toward me, white, and closing in as though it were their right or their necessity.... If I move, as I may do, I only prove the vastness of the crowd whose ebb and flow still surrounds me, everywhere I go.