The Girl In The Mist

The Girl In The Mist: A Romantic Vignette



The Figure At The Window


It was around 8 pm and I was at the sink filling my kettle for a much-needed cup of tea. I remember the night well, as it was an unusually foggy, misty evening. I was renting a bungalow in northern Norway on the lake of Langevatnet because it was remote and picturesque- perfect for the job that landed me there as a travel writer.


Because my English is quite good, I had come all the way from Oslo a few weeks earlier to write an article for an American magazine about the beauty and mystery of the waterways of Norway. I had left the hustle and bustle of the city to stay near a few of the lesser known fjords. Norway is full of them- they are everywhere you turn.


Just thirty at the time of my tale, I was quite comfortably a bachelor and quite satisfied in my little bungalow. Because it was near the water, it was often misty, as was that night but I had never come across anything unusual before. But that night, as I stood at the window my eyes seemed to be playing tricks on me. I saw a form pass by my window and glide along noiselessly in the direction of the stone bridge. I was not alarmed and I don’t know why but I did not take the form for a person, but rather a wayward reindeer or moose, as I had seen them many times in that region of Norway.


Soon enough, my kettle whistled and I made my tea and put a few more logs on the fire as it was a chilly evening in late October. After my tea, as I was washing up, I noticed out the window that the fog had shifted enough to reveal a figure of a person on the bridge.




I was tentative and nervous as I threw on my heavy woollen coat and made my way outside towards the figure. I soon saw it was a lady but she was nearly obscured by the fog with her light blue coat and pale blonde hair.


She was standing up on the stone side of the bridge, her back facing me. As stupid as I was (or what I would like to consider as naive) it did not occur to me what was actually in progress until I saw her step off of the side.


The splash of water snapped me out of my stupor and I threw off my jacket and jumped in after her. The icy water knocked the wind out of me. It stung and bit at my flesh and I could not see for the fog and dark but I was able to follow the sound of her distress. I grabbed hold of the unwilling girl and pushed her onto the dry embankment. She lay still but breathing and I assumed she had fainted. Gathering her up in my arms, I carried her up to my bungalow.


Inside, I laid her down near the fireplace and unbuttoned her soggy coat, peeled it off of her and tossed it aside. Then I covered her in a rough woollen blanket.


“Miss?” I said softly and shook her lightly. Her face and hair were as pale as the fog but her lips were blue with cold and she had a flush in her cheeks. I shook her again and a pair of light blue eyes flickered open and looked upon me.


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