Chasing Fog
by Samuel_Williams · 25 October 2026 · Short Stories
Vix is deep in an existential crisis on the couch, paralyzed by grad school applications and looming adult responsibilities, while her roommate Tai cheerfully glues googly eyes onto everything including Vix's Kierkegaard. When Vix confronts Tai about her apparent lack of seriousness, Tai gently but sharply reframes the argument: chasing a perfect future is chasing fog, while finding meaning in tangible, present-day acts is the real form of seriousness. The two reach a small but genuine truce, agreeing to be serious together in their own complementary ways.
Vix was having a capital L Life Crisis on the couch.
It involved a stack of library books, two cold cups of coffee, and a laptop open to a grad school application she had not started. Across from her, Tai was on the floor, 5'3" of concentrated mess, red hair held up with a paintbrush, carefully gluing googly eyes onto everything she owned.
One of the googly eyes went onto Vix's copy of Kierkegaard.
"Tai," Vix said.
"Mmm?"
"You have a portfolio review in two days and you haven't mounted anything. The electric bill is on the fridge and it says FINAL NOTICE in red, which you decorated with a little heart. You haven't applied for literally any summer jobs."
Tai stuck a googly eye on her own knee. "The heart makes it less scary."
Vix sat up. This was the part where her emo goth battery finally overloaded. "You don't take anything seriously. Ever. It's like life is just a joke to you and I'm the only one in this apartment who understands that it's actually hard and short and mostly terrible."
Tai finally looked up. Her ears twitched. When she smiled, you could see the points of her canines.
"I do take life seriously," she said.
"Googly eyes on my philosophy book is not serious."
"No, listen," Tai said, sitting crisscross. She was still holding the glue. "You think serious means worrying. Like, if you're not miserable about it, you don't care about it."
"That's not what I said."
"It's a little what you said," Tai said, not mean about it. Just cheerful and stubborn. "You chase fog, Vix."
Vix blinked. "What?"
"Fog. You chase fog. You're running after this perfect, serious future where you have the right internship and the right grad school and you finally figure out the correct way to be an adult, and every time you get close it moves. Of course you're angry. You're tired from running."
Vix opened her mouth, then closed it. Her black hair fell in front of her face.
"I don't chase fog," she said, quieter. "I just... think about it. Someone has to."
"I know," Tai said. "And I love that about you. You're good at thinking about the big scary stuff so I don't have to do it alone. But I'm not chasing it."
She gestured around the apartment. The half-finished mural, the chipped mugs, the electric bill with a heart on it.
"I take this seriously. I take us having toast at midnight seriously. I take you letting me put googly eyes on your sad books seriously. I take making something with my hands today seriously, because I can actually touch it. That's not fog. That's real."
Vix looked at the googly eye now staring up at her from Kierkegaard. Against all her principles, she laughed. A short, real one.
"That's the most annoying wise thing anyone's ever said to me while holding craft glue."
Tai grinned, all canines. "I'm a multi-talented art major."
Vix sighed and kicked the electric bill off the fridge with her foot so it fluttered down to Tai.
"Fine. We'll be serious together. You pay this online, right now, and I'll help you mount your portfolio. And no more eyes on my books."
"Deal," Tai said. "But I'm keeping the one on my knee. He's my emotional support knee."
Vix rolled her eyes, but she slid off the couch onto the floor next to her anyway, angry and not angry at the same time.
Indicated by the author: partly created with AI support.
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