on a dreary day

The eleventh of November. I remember the day exactly, it was rainy and I managed to drop my phone and earn its first crack. Damn. I walked down to the arboretum by the lake, exhausted, following my favorite meandering path to the edge of the water. A thick mist descended, crawling over the smooth surface, as if out of an ancient legend. It was completely silent, serene. Suddenly my phone rang, and enraged at the disturbance of my peace and quiet, on a mad impulse, I threw it into the lake.

A pale slender arm rose up and caught it.