Author's note: Thanks to Lillehafrue for the title. Inspired by a prompt from live journal's fic simplicity community. Their prompt: #6, morning fog.
Prompt 6 Shakes
The fog had rolled in off the sea this morning, swathing the island in thick, warm mist. It penetrates his sleeveless sweatshirt and running shorts, leaving him dripping. Saturated, salt-laden air makes breathing difficult; he finds himself panting. His breath rattles in his chest.
His run over, he slows, cooling down. Walking, keeping muscles from cramping, feeling his heart rate settle, he finds the towel, and the cooler. As he grabs his waiting power shake, starting to down it, a figure looms from the murk. He jumps, spilling the drink as a fog-muffled voice calls, "Good run, Scott?"