{"id":2589,"date":"2014-06-13T03:36:27","date_gmt":"2014-06-13T03:36:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/?p=2589"},"modified":"2014-06-13T03:36:27","modified_gmt":"2014-06-13T03:36:27","slug":"fog-line-lori-schafer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/fog-line-lori-schafer\/","title":{"rendered":"Fog Line by Lori Schafer"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"ghosts\"<\/a><\/h1>\n

Fog Line<\/h1>\n

by Lori Schafer<\/p>\n

It was thick; the thickest, swirliest fog she\u2019d ever seen, here on this back-road through backwoods North Dakota. Joyce cursed the impulse that had brought her to it; wished fervently she\u2019d kept to the highway; not attempted the shortcut to the interstate, the one that would carry her along a new path, a new string of destinations.<\/p>\n

Or at least I might have saved it for morning, she pondered ruefully as she crawled along, her headlights barely piercing the veil of low cloud that cloaked the asphalt. All at once the lights grew brighter, more colorful; red and blue mixed with the white, illuminating her path even as she was forced to abandon it.<\/p>\n

She parked and sat; turned off the engine. Strained for the glovebox so she would be ready with the answers to the now-routine questions.<\/p>\n

\u201cLicense and registration, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHere they are, officer.\u201d He raised his flashlight and looked them over, as they always did, comparing the image on the out-of-state license to the young woman in the rusty van that pre-dated her.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no insurance information on your registration, Miss.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was prepared for that one, too. \u201cIn my state it isn\u2019t printed on there; you get a separate card. See, here?\u201d She handed it over and he examined it skeptically.<\/p>\n

She cleared her throat. \u201cCould you tell me why you pulled me over, officer? I certainly wasn\u2019t speeding,\u201d she chuckled with affected amusement.<\/p>\n

He gazed steadily back at her from beneath his broad-brimmed hat, his expression impossible to read in the misty glare of his flash. \u201cI\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Joyce waited, the familiar but still unsettling wait.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs that taillight out again?\u201d she queried anxiously when he returned. \u201cI got pulled over for that a while ago but I had it fixed right away\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI stopped you because you crossed the fog line,\u201d he interrupted.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s a fog line?\u201d she inquired, puzzled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat white line on the edge of the road,\u201d he explained. \u201cThat\u2019s what it\u2019s called.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh,\u201d she said stupidly. \u201cI didn\u2019t know that.\u201d<\/p>\n

He leaned on the edge of her window. \u201cThis is a pretty unusual vehicle you\u2019ve got here,\u201d he remarked.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a \u201969 Dodge,\u201d she replied enthusiastically. \u201cYou don\u2019t see many of them on the road these days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat you don\u2019t,\u201d he agreed, shaking his head incredulously. \u201cWhere you headed, Miss?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust passing through,\u201d she countered vaguely. \u201cI was planning on picking up the interstate up ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThink you can find it okay?\u201d he queried, returning her papers with a flourish.<\/p>\n

\u201cSure!\u201d she exclaimed, relieved that the ordeal was nearly over. \u201cI\u2019ll be more careful\u2026 of the fog line, I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, to be perfectly frank with you, Miss\u2026 I mean, you did cross the line a bit, but mostly I pulled you over because\u2026 Well, I just wanted to see what you looked like.\u201d<\/p>\n

And with that he tipped his cap, patted the van\u2019s door in a friendly fashion, and vanished into the impenetrable fog of the Dakota night.<\/p>\n

###
\nLori Schafer’s flash fiction, short stories, and essays have appeared in numerous print and online publications, and she is currently at work on her third novel. Her memoir, On Hearing of My Mother’s Death Six Years After It Happened: A Daughter’s Memoir of Mental Illness<\/em>, is being released in October 2014. You can find out more about Lori and her forthcoming projects by visiting her website at http:\/\/lorilschafer.blogspot.com\/.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lori Schafer’s flash fiction, short stories, and essays have appeared in numerous print and online publications, and she is currently at work on her third novel. Her memoir<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_bbp_topic_count":0,"_bbp_reply_count":0,"_bbp_total_topic_count":0,"_bbp_total_reply_count":0,"_bbp_voice_count":0,"_bbp_anonymous_reply_count":0,"_bbp_topic_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_reply_count_hidden":0,"_bbp_forum_subforum_count":0,"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[375],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2589","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-literary-story"],"aioseo_notices":[],"amp_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2589","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2589"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2589\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2591,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2589\/revisions\/2591"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2589"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2589"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/shortstories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2589"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}