My weekly commute is one long ferry ride. On this particular ride, the route was covered in intense fog. Besides an unreasonable terror with the thought that The Mist had finally become a reality, it created the feeling that we weren't moving.
The sway of the boat, the thrum of the engines were a couple of signs that at least the feeling of motion was present. Inching toward some destination. But a look out the window provided only a sliver of water visible close to the hull. It certainly looked like the boat was moving. But really, we could have been stuck in a giant fish tank with a jet of water pushing against the boat and the only thing preventing us from banging against the back of the tank was the throb of the engine. It was a really odd feeling of equilibrium.
No backward. No forward. Almost like Time had vanished. It was unnerving.