ICEFOG

The clock turns to 6 am; rumbling tires roll down an empty autobahn. For a moment I forget I'm thousands of miles away from what I traditionally call home.

The sun rises behind a wall of grey cloud; just enough to illuminate the winterscape surrounding me. I'm transported into the world of German fairytales through short and measured visions as I drive. The icefog clings to everything except the black road in front of me. For a breath I am suspended in my imagination until the overpasses of Frankfurt come into view.

It's bitter cold as I step out of the car. The wind bites through my down coat and I'm harshly brought back to modern reality.