Ahead, the familiar outlines of the ancient oak trees began to dissolve into the dense fog. Their dark, gnarled branches stretched upward like arthritic fingers, clawing at the mist that swallowed them. The fog was a living thing today, rolling in slow, silent waves across the open meadow, obscuring the path ahead and erasing the world behind.
The morning was a flat, featureless white, blurring the line between the frozen ground and the heavy sky. Wallpaper Snow, Lonely Bench, Trees, Foggy Park
Kaelen pulled his camera from his coat. This was the shot he had come for. He framed the scene carefully: the bench in the lower third, the ghostly silhouettes of the trees fading into the fog behind it, and the infinite, soft white of the snow filling the rest of the space. It looked exactly like a desktop wallpaper—a beautiful, melancholic scene meant to be stared at during moments of quiet contemplation. Ahead, the familiar outlines of the ancient oak
He stopped when he reached the clearing. There, sitting solitary against the vast expanse of white, was the bench. The morning was a flat, featureless white, blurring