The Voice in the Fog 🌫️

✅ A London fog 🌫️, solid, substantial, yellow 💛 as an old 🧓 dogs 🐶 tooth 🦷 or a jaundiced eye 👁️. You ➡️👤 could not ❌️ look 👀 through it, nor yet gaze up ⬆️ and ➕ down ⬇️ it, nor over it; and ➕ you ➡️👤 only thought 💭 you ➡️👤 saw 👀 it. The eye 👁️ became impotent, untrustworthy; all senses lay fallow except that of touch; the skin alone conveyed to you ➡️👤 with promptness and ➕ no incertitude that this thing had substance. You ➡️👤 could feel 💆‍♀️ it; you ➡️👤 could open 😃 and ➕ shut your hands ✋ and ➕ sense it on your palms 🤲, and ➕ it penetrated your clothes and ➕ beaded 🧿 your spectacles andrings and ➕ bracelets and ➕ shoe 👞-buckles. It was nightmare, bereft of its pillows, grown 🌲⬆️ somnambulistic; and ➕ London became the antechamber to Hades, lackeyed by idle dreams and ➕ peopled by mistakes. Reprint of the 1️⃣9️⃣1️⃣5️⃣ classic mystery story.

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