It was a foggy evening when Mrs. Henderson, an elderly woman, set out for her nightly walk. The chill in the air made her wrap her scarf tighter, and the misty haze clung to the streets, making it hard to see much farther than a few feet ahead. The neighborhood was quiet, and the only sound was the crunch of her shoes on the wet pavement.
As she walked along the isolated path near the edge of the park, Mrs. Henderson tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. Her cane slipped from her grasp, and she tumbled to the ground, struggling to get back up. The fog made it nearly impossible to see, and the quiet seemed suffocating. She called for help, but her voice was swallowed by the thick air. No one was around to hear her.
Just when she thought she might be stuck there forever, she heard a soft rustling in the fog. At first, she thought it was just her imagination, but then she felt something nudge her leg. A stray dog, with a dirty coat and soulful eyes, appeared out of the fog, standing beside her. The dog looked up at her, its tail wagging gently, as if sensing her distress.