”I wonder what it is that she wants, what she is after. They say that she comes without warning, without purpose or thought. She comes in the dark. Her heart is lonely and cold. […] Her path is numbing, and she takes something from you and replaces it with an aching and longing. A longing for something you cannot reach. She is cautious and careful never to be seen, but sometimes her sorrow becomes too heavy, and then she just stands there. That’s when the fog comes. At least this is what I think.”

Elsa Oscarsson, June 14th 1902