He ran in a red fog, his legs heavy, too heavy.

Then I was on the ground, trying to shake the red fog of pain from my eyes.

Then he opened his eyes and the red fog went away and he was looking at a face.

Through a red fog of pain he looked up at Valle.

Then, through the red fog, he saw the small opening at the bottom of the course.

His words penetrated the red fog in my brain and it slowly lifted.

He felt it like a hot red fog behind his eyes.

The air was thick with blood globules and red fog.

Later, he knew, the red fog would wrap him up and carry him away.

In them a man is blind, even to the red fog that reaches through closed eyelids.