The Fog Catchers 001
The fog rolls in, the fog rolls out.
Twelve storeys, here we go. A little scared. The lift to the seventh floor, then the stairs. Dad’s puffing for air. Gotta be careful.
Onto the roof. The other tower blocks surrounding us, trails of mist still lingering. My first time up here. Dawn light. Cold.
The other crews already at work. They have these super shiny nets stretched from post to post, all finely stitched, tightly meshed.
But our net is old and a bit tatty. Got more than a few holes in it. I keep mending them, they keep on breaking. No matter.
I step closer. Never actually seen it in action. Just a bit of cloth before, back in the flat. But now I’m all eyes, really I am.
Reach out. Slowly. Make contact. The surface is warm! Images tremble under my fingers. Oh God. I feel like I’m touching ghosts.