A fog. I swear, I see a fog. Right now. This very second. It just appeared! Wait, I can see a machine. It looks almost like a light-post, directly to my left, is leaking the smoke. But what purpose does it serve? Why am I the only person alarmed by this? As I look around, no one else has noticed. Not a single person. The fog – the mist, white and terrifying, is just going into their eyes! Writhing and roiling, it’s drawing ever closer to me. I have no choice – I pull down my fedora, close my coat, turn, and sprint the other direction.
My name is Remy Confesseur; one might describe me as average. I work as a teller in a bank, and every day I go through the same routine. I start my day at the bank, where I work for almost five hours, from 8:00 AM to 1:00 PM. When the clock hits 1:00, I take my break and go to the café down the street for some lunch, a nice baguette or croissant and a cup of coffee.
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