4/4/2022: Fighting Through the Fog

This story I think epitomizes the way I felt this morning. Somebody’s got a case of the Mondays…


The land lay enveloped in a thick, grimy fog. Argvid smelled naught but the rank peat that made up the swampland he and his band traversed. He knew they were out there, but he couldn’t see anything through the cursed mist, and sloshing and the suction of boots in peat permeated his sense of hearing. His own boot went down into the bog and he cursed.

“Blue hell,” Argvid said.

“Quiet, boy!” his uncle Gunnar said. “You want to catch an arrow in that braying gullet of yours?”

Argvid ignored the older man’s hypocrisy and yanked his boot out of the muck. It almost slipped from his foot, and he bent down to pull it back on. The sound of something striking the mushy ground to his left turned him around, and he saw an arrow slowly sinking sideways into the peat.

“Shields up!” Argvid said. “Ambush!”

The plunk of arrows falling all around him reassured him that their enemy could see them no better than Argvid could see the enemy. Only one arrow grazed his shield and he heard no cries of injury from the others. Keeping his shield up, Argvid walked toward his uncle and whispered into his ear.

“When do we make camp for breakfast?”

Gunnar fought to choke down the laughter and struck Argvid in the ass with the flat end of his ax.

“You want breakfast,” he said, “then go kill those bastards so we can eat something besides arrowheads.”

Argvid went to his cousin, Patr, and two other men nearby he didn’t know by name.

“Breakfast is on the other side of that fog,” he said, “and I’m starving. Any of you gents willing to help me fetch it?”

They all nodded their heads and smiled. The four men took off their boots, carrying them in their free hands, and sneaked the best they could through the peat moss. Arrows occasionally fell around them, but they were random and clearly hoping to find one of them by chance.

Having reached the treeline, Argvid and the other three put their boots on and went into the mist.


What ways do you have to make Mondays more bearable?

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