Smoke, Fog, and Haze
Navigating the streets of London town, barely a consideration for where she was going, Mary Poppins never once lessened her determined stride. She was currently on her way back to Uncle Albert's house after a day of errands. There had been enough time to visit a friend or two, but she had deliberately avoided her friends that day.
One person, in particular.
Blinking in surprise, she came to a stop, realising that she had walked into a part of town that she was unfamiliar with. She had been too distracted to give any thought as to where she was going. Unwisely trusting that she would know the way home. Around her, an impenetrable fog was rising. Shaming her for being so distracted.
For you see, Mary was muddled.
"A nice mess you've gone and gotten yourself into," she snapped.
Flickering into life, the street lamp shimmered behind her, lighting her path.
"And 'oo might you be talkin' to?"
Bert was hanging from the lamppost, one foot on the ladder. She raised a brow, displeased to see how little he cared for safety precautions.
"Myself, if that pleases you to hear." She clutched the handle of her bag a little tighter. "Why are you hanging from the lamppost like a chimpanzee?"
"It's my job, o' course." He hopped down, knowing he hadn't properly answered her question.
Curious, she thought. To find herself muddled, thinking of the one person she had tried to avoid, and she had found herself walking right to him. Where he had proceeded to clear the fog around her.
"I didn't see you around this morning?" his voice cut through her nervous speculation. He winked. "No' avoidin' me, are you, Mary Poppins?"
"I most certainly am not," she retorted. "Why would I be avoiding you?"
Bert leant against the post, watching her with visible amusement. He was enjoying this game. "Per'aps my skilful kissing was too much for you."
Exactly the subject she had wanted to avoid, she emitted a disbelieving scoff. "As if you would be so lucky."
He pushed away from the post, collecting his ladder and satchel filled with various tools.
"Let me walk you 'ome. It's a little foggy tonight."
And it's all your fault, she thought. If he hadn't been so sweet and understanding the day before, she wouldn't have let him kiss her. Then she wouldn't have had to avoid him. And perhaps, she wouldn't let him kiss her again when they reached the front door. But she seldom followed her own advice when it came to sentiment.