Huzayl’s narrative 

I stood there. Staring at the fog with horror. I could feel the sharp cold air hitting my face as if it would damage my freezing face. It almost looked like the crispy old grass was staring at me and saying not to move a step forward or my life would become in danger. I could see the grey misty fog gradually taking over the sky. I could see the  blood curdling black bird suspiciously staring right into my eyes. I could tell it wanted answers from me. The sky hadn’t changed at all it was still uninviting. I could see the corroded  basket was crying hopelessly for help. My eyes caught the Eiffel tower secretly popping out of the misty grey fog.