I took a tram ride downtown as the fog set slowly down on the streets of Gothenburg. It was already dark. With the sounds of Regina Spector - her eerie, but fantastic voice and brilliant lyrics - in my ears, she blended in with the fog which in return blended in with the newly-lit-Christmas lights. The fog covered the street with hollow drowsiness and a sleepy overflow covered me up like a blanket. The streets walked lonely, dark past me, with their only companion: The Fog. The water canal lay still, quiet, lifeless and awaiting the lights to come dance on it. A mirror image of the Gothenburg world reflected in the water as I passed. The eerie stillness calmed me, supported my hurried soul. It whispered in my ear: I have to go there; I have to walk those streets in the foggy nothingness and hopefully find my footsteps back.
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