Fog Tamer: Fantasy

The dense fog circled around his ankles like a cat in need of petting. For a moment, he suppressed an urge to stoop and run his long fingers through the strands of gray. Only the thought that the fog might arch its back and purr in appreciation made his stop. He had to curtail this. That was the whole purpose. The fog fell back to slink at his heels like a kicked dog as he climbed up a lichen-crusted flight of stone stairs. He stiffened his back and knocked on the door. Twice. Trying not to notice the eagerness with which the wood rose to meet his knuckles. It was time to be rid of this thing. He could not allow it to continue as it was.


Inspiration: Just started typing. No inspiration, unless it was the "cat feet" poem...and I wasn't thinking of that.
Story Potential: Medium-high.
Finished Length: Short story.
Notes: There are a number of places this could go. Initially, all I have is a man who has some sort of affinity for "objects", or vice versa, and who wants to be rid of this. The obvious place to go with this is to have his attempts to be rid of this ability lead him into peril that only his ability can get him out of...leading to his acceptance of his, ah, abilities. The more interesting part of this could be how he acquired this ability in the first place...not from birth, obviously; his attitude makes it seem that this is a recent addition. A curse? An accident? A blessing? Was it intended to go to someone else? I also like the idea of narrowing the affinity down to weather, or to water-based things....