A dense gray cloud obscured the vision of Federation President Jhon Hart, he could not even determine where the portal had left him, but he was sure this was not the oval office five months before the disaster as they had planned. However, everything seemed so sinisterly familiar.
As I walked through the dense cloak, I could not stop thinking about what had happened a few minutes before, minutes? Even I did not know.
The heavy fog not only made it hard for him to breathe, but it also clouded his perception of things and nullified his mind.
He recognized himself walking through a ghostly New York, whose streets seemed stopped in time. The restaurants were still open, although there were no diners. The traffic lights giving instructions to lit vehicles but without any passenger driver.
He could not understand if the bitter cloud of death had hidden the sun or made it run away from the city.
—My God!, but what happened? What have I done?
As 
I hope you enjoyed my story for the micro-fiction contest organized by
Posteado desde mi Blog con SteemPress : https://karupanocitizenblog.000webhostapp.com/2019/04/the-gray-cloud-micro-fiction-contest-by-karupanocitizen