Through The Mist

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One last story from New Year's Eve.

I visited two friends this time around. There was a five-person indoor limit, and a curfew from 7pm on December 31st to 6am on January 1st. I don't think anyone actually got a ticket for violating the curfew. Nonetheless, I didn't want to get one.

I left the first friend's house at 6:10pm. I was on my bike. The route was pretty straight; there's a bike path along the river, and all I had to do was to cycle straight for ~8km.

It was dark - no problem! I thought. I had lights front and back, after all.

It was cold - no problem! I had warm sporting clothes all over.

Poor me didn't think about the mist. The river is in the valley, December is mist season in Poland.

I had 1 metre visibility, at best. I knew the route, but I didn't see a thing. At times, it was hard to know where the asphalt ended and the grass started. Thankfully there was no one else on the path - I'd crash into them.

This scared the shit out of me. I got through, but it was truly stressful. Especially knowing that the curfew was approaching. And I never lived through a curfew in my country.

That experience was a perfect metaphor of how life often is; a ride through the mist. We often think it's a well-lit road. While in reality,

we can't see shit.


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