In the Prologue for The Mist Monster, I mentioned how fog and any of its variations were naught more than low-hanging fruit where terror was concerned. And the I proceeded to share a mediocre tale of horror regarding said low-hanging fruit. AND THEN I followed it up with another in Phantoms.

Well. I never claimed this publication would peddle only high-brow literature. This is horror, after all. And since we’re on the topic of fog as a low-hanging fruit, here is yet another mediocre story in the same vein as the last two.

We almost skipped over this one, as it is not the most exciting story. The ending is absurd for such a potentially interesting concept, and the extreme use of em dashes causes some confusion with regard to the pacing of the dialogue and the story overall.

Listen, I fucking love em dashes. I am a huge supporter of em dashes and use them as often as my writing allows for it. But even I don’t make use of punctuation I love with quite the same capacity as this C. Franklin Miller fellow does.

Anyway, despite the em dashes, the mediocrity of the story, and the absurd ending, this remains a bit curious and thus worth the read.