The Fog

Ian slipped off his Celtic scarf and tossed it into the back seat of the car. He was still on a high from Tom Rogic’s last minute winner in the cup final just a couple of short hours before and he was dying to tell his old man all about it. He walked towards the front door of the unit his old fella called home these day, the Glasgow drizzle failing to wipe the smile from his face. He heard the familiar buzz of the door locking system opening, pushed and stepped inside out of the damp air...