I looked out the window and all I could see was fog.
Nothing but fog.
The man in the seat next to me said we probably wouldn’t see the tarmac until we landed on it.
He was right.
I left the plane and walked into the fog.
Fog, fog, fog.
And behind the fog, more fog.
I stared into the fog and squinted, peering intently.
Nope. Just more fog.
I caught the bus and we headed into the fog.
I wonder when I will see Dublin.
Or any part of Ireland.
