A Journey Through The Fog

Part 3

Dear Readers,

I hope this message finds you safe and well. I want to sincerely apologize for the delay in posting. Hurricane Milton wreaked havoc in our area, leaving many of us grappling with the aftermath. Losing power and internet was only the beginning of our loses. It was a difficult time for all of us, filled with uncertainty and challenges that tested our resilience.

In light of these struggles, I’ve made the difficult decision to start paid subscriptions for the story section earlier than planned. It’s a step towards rebuilding and sustaining our creative efforts in this unpredictable world. The support you’ve shown me means more than you know, and I promise to continue bringing you stories that resonate and uplift.

Thank you for your understanding and support during this tough time.

With gratitude,

Sarah

______The Story Continues _______

The fog had thickened in Sarah’s world, making even the easiest tasks feel like she was climbing a mountain. It wasn’t just the pain—though that was enough on its own—but the sheer weight of fatigue pressing down on her, making every step feel impossible. Just when she was ready to give in, something small—a child’s giggle and the sight of her teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzy—cut through the gloom. It was a tiny moment of light, but it was enough. Sarah realized then that no matter how dense the fog, there were still cracks for the light to sneak through. And she held on to that.

Now, Sarah wasn’t just surviving—she was learning to master the art of surviving. She knew her limits, even though she didn’t always like them. On those unbearable days, when her body rebelled and every movement was a negotiation with pain, she’d cocoon herself in blankets, heating pad in tow, and whisper to her body, “We got this. One breath at a time.” It became her mantra, a quiet agreement between her mind and her aching muscles.

The fatigue was something else entirely. It wasn’t the kind of tiredness a good nap could fix. This was the bone-deep kind, the kind that made folding laundry feel like running a marathon. But she’d learned to pace herself, to take breaks and be okay with it. And she started celebrating the wins—the small, seemingly insignificant ones that most people take for granted. “Laundry’s folded? Go, me! Dinner’s made? That’s a win!” It was in these everyday battles that Sarah found her strength.