Condensation

[rejectomorph]

At various times tonight, we have had both of my favorite kinds of condensation; fog, and fine mist. I suppose they are my favorites in part because of their rarity. If they were common, I'd probably grow tired of them. The mist was especially nice, arriving first shortly after sunset and filling the dusk with a swirl of gleaming specks. I don't enjoy walking in rain, but mist is quite pleasant. The tiny cool drops make my skin tingle, and when they are inhaled, they make my mouth water, as though I were tasting the crisp air. Walking in mist is an impressionist experience, with film noir overtones. I can imagine myself walking along shiny city streets alone, wearing a trench coat and fedora, the passing scene half revealed in pools of light from the street lamps and lighted shop windows, the arachnid web of streets spreading a map of infinite possibilities out around me. The mist lubricates my imagination.